A Dodgy Business

Chapters

Chapter 1: Back to Dodge
Chapter 2: Life on the Ranch
Chapter 3: Penelope Preda
Chapter 4: The Grumbling Brothers
Chapter 5: The Worst Worker
Chapter 6: Bedside Vigil
Chapter 8: Clutter Takes the Fall
Chapter 9: Under-Mined
Chapter 10: The Town Harvest
Chapter 11: Home Again
Epilogue
Chapter 7: Home for Wanderers

Chapter 1: Back to Dodge

A Dodgy Business
By MLP-Silver-Quill

Applejack usually loved trains. Had a knack for easing her nerves. Same way her daddy used to bounce her on his back until the rhythm set her to dreaming. Wasn’t quite working this time. Dang knots in her stomach wouldn’t unwind, like a lasso on a buck-wild bull.

The red-eye to Dodge Junction had left on time. Hardly anypony aboard, what with the hour. Anypony with a lick of sense got off at Ponyville unless they wanted a ride out into the frontier. All the greens of the grasslands faded into the mix of tan and brown with a stray cactus for fun. Applejack watched it all roll past.

“Ah, AJ?”

She cleared the cobwebs with a few shakes and looked at the speaker. “Sorry, big bro. Was lettin’ my mind go every which way. We’re almost there.” Big Macintosh sighed and nearly dumped himself into the aisle. He’d been as crammed as a pig in a chicken coop the whole way out. Last-minute tickets had been pricy enough. Couldn’t afford the extra-large seats. Not before apple-bucking season, anyway.

Which is just four days yonder. She sighed. It wasn’t right, her being away from the farm this close to the harvest. It hadn’t been an easy year. What with running off to Canterlot for a wedding (or invasion, depending on your view) and then to the Crystal Empire, then that cutiemark fiasco and the coronation, plus a hundred other little disasters that added up to a heap of trouble. Most ponies wouldn’t know by the way she acted, but Applejack considered herself a stay-close-to-home type. She might wander far and wide, but all paths led back.

Ponyville was where she belonged.

So what am I doing out here? She reached under the brim of her hat and pulled down the telegram. No matter how many times she read it, the words just didn’t add up.

In trouble STOP Please come back STOP Bring workers STOP

CHERRY JUBILEE

Ms. Jubilee had gone with the barest number of words to call for help. Not a who, what, or why. She wasn’t a stingy pony. If she was counting bits and needed help from outside Dodge Junction, well, Applejack’s belly did another clench.

“It’s probably nothing.” said Applejack.

“Eeyup.” Her brother nodded and gripped the window frame as the train traced a bend.

“Bet she just needs an extra set of hooves.”

“Eeyup.”

“Should be done in a day or two.”

“Eey—aaah!” Another turn, and Big Macintosh wound up sprawled in the aisle.

Need to stop moaning for apples. She reminded herself. For the next few days, it’s all about cherries. Cherry Jubilee had been good to her, as a friend and an employer. She’d taken Applejack in after that mess at the Equestrian rodeo, no questions asked. She’d been more than fair when Applejack had resigned to go back home. Even gave her a generous severance pay (minus the cost of those cherries her friends had turned to jam).

An Apple always honors her friends.

Big Macintosh gave up on the seat and plunked down in the aisle. He rested a hoof on her shoulder. He had a knack for giving her calm with just a touch. Spite of everything, big galoot looked happy. Unlike Applejack, he hardly ever set hoof outside of Ponyville. Applejack smiled at him and returned the telegram to her hat. They’d get their answers soon enough.

“Sir!” A conductor at the far end of the cart trotted down the aisle, gold button on his jacket flashing. “You’ll have to get back in your seat.”

Big Macintosh eyed the padded bench. Still had a half-indent from his flank. “Nnope.”

“Sir, I really must insist.”

Big Macintosh stood at full height, his mane brushing against the roof. Made real sure the conductor got a good look before canting his head to the look in the smaller pony’s eyes “Nnope.”

“Uh, right.” The collar of the earth pony’s dark uniform was damp with sweat. “I’ll just… uh… tell the driver to handle those turns, um, gently.”

“Eeyup.” Big Macintosh smiled to himself as the conductor slunk back and exited the cart.

“T’aint nice to scare working ponies, Big Mac.” Applejack said, grinning.

The train outraced tumbleweeds and chased dust storms. One patch of desert began to look like another. Applejack couldn’t see the sense of living all the way out here.

She had fond memories of the cherry orchard, though. It might be fun to harvest a new crop for a day or two. Show Big Macintosh what it was like outside the apple orchards. As long as they got back home quick.

The squat buildings of Dodge Junction pulled into view, and Applejack was on her hooves before the train came to a stop. Big Macintosh followed, pressed by the aisle and pausing to offer the conductor a hoofshake. Applejack was glad she’d slipped out first, though a tad embarrassed by her selfishness. She bounded onto the station deck. The heat was as solid as a wall. Twilight had said the trains had some kind of climate charm built into the frame. Constant spring weather indoors. Now Applejack had jumped smack-dab into the middle of summer, and a scorcher at that. Hadn’t even landed when a familiar voice called out.

“Applejack! Thank all my lucky stars!” The owner of Cherry Hill Ranch trotted across the platform. She looked… wrong. Though her green eyes flashed bright, the bags underneath and the strands of loose mane hadn’t been there when Applejack had left. Hadn’t a lick of energy to her step. Cherry Jubilee smiled, but all that did was deepen the creases around her mouth. She fell on Applejack and wrapped her forelegs in a tight hug. “I can’t thank you enough for coming back. I know it wasn’t easy or expected.” She glanced back at the train. “But, what about your friends? Rainbow Dash and Twilight Sparkle and all them good folk?”

Applejack winced. Her first letdown.

She’d ask every work pony back home to come with her. Cherry Jubilee’s trouble couldn’t come at a worse time than harvest season. Every pony, from Golden Harvest to Rose was hogtied with her own business. Not a one could up and hop on the first train to Dodge Junction. Heck, even her friends hadn’t been able to come. Only her big brother, which left Sweet Apple Acres in the care of Granny Smith and Applebloom. Granny would keep an eye on the farm; and Applebloom… well, Applejack would hurry home quick as she could.

“Oh, uh,” Applejack wiggled free before she started turning blue. “I’m real sorry, Ms. Jubliee. Rainbow Dash was off at a Wonderbolts show. Rarity went to do some business in Canterlot and Twilight tagged along to visit her folks. Fluttershy’s helping with a zoo problem out in Phillydelphia, and Pinkie Pie…” Celestia forbid Applejack ever understand what Pinkie did. Ever.

Cherry Jubilee’s enthusiasm dried up and blew away. Her smile straightened and she fought a trembling lip. “So, it’s just you?”

“Nnope.” Big Macintosh emerged. The door frame groaned as he pulled through. Gave the cart a farwell flick of his tail.

“Oh my goodness.” Cherry Jubilee gasped. “Applejack, is this that big brother you were tellin’ me ‘bout?” She ran a hoof over the frazzled strands of her mane. Just made them frizzier.

“Sure is!” Applejack mustered up every bit of optimism. “I know it’s just us two, but we’ve harvested the whole of Sweet Apple acres every year without a lick of help!”

Big Macintosh cleared his throat. “Um?”

“‘cept for that one time, but that don’t count!” She shot her brother a quick glare before smiling at Cherry Jubilee. “Whatever your problem, Big Macintosh and I can help. Now where’re your manners, big brother? Say howdy.”

“Oh, charmed.” Ms. Jubilee batted her eyes and held up a delicate hoof. “Applejack told me she had a strong, honest brother. She didn’t say a thing about being so… muscular.”

“Um… Eeyup?” Big Macintosh gave the offered hoof a shake. Ms. Jubilee looked crestfallen for a half tick, then smiled at him. Schoolgirl blush spread over her cheeks. Was all Applejack could do to keep from busting a gut then and there.

“It’s a might bit public out here. What’s say we head on home?” Cherry Jubilee led them down the platform. Applejack followed her former employer around the station and into the dusty streets. She wasn’t sure they’d gone into the right town.

All the energy and bustle of Dodge Junction had vanished into the desert heat. Hardly anypony on the street. More than half the shops were boarded up or featured a “closed” side in their windows. Applejack saw one of the wagon team ponies that she’d “borrowed” during her attempted escape from her friends way back. The stallion caught sight, froze mid-trot. She waved hello, and the stallion went rigid as a post before darting into the nearest shop. Well, she had nearly gotten him run over by a train.

Cept it didn’t help that the nearest shop was a mare’s boutique. The stallion bolted out to a chorus of screams. A mare in a tailor’s apron followed him out, scissors clenched in her teeth. “An’ stay out, you no-good—” She went right silent when she saw Applejack and Big Macintosh. The scissors slipped out of her mouth and she was back indoors before they’d settled in the dirt.

Other ponies started ducking out of sight. Ponies she hadn’t had time to meet or get to know. Applejack prided herself on being right neigh-borly, but these frontier folk acted like she went and spat in all their drinks.

That drew her eyes to the saloon, which seemed to still be in high spirits. Plenty of saltlick danced on the wind, along with the sweet sting of cider and stronger drinks. A small cluster of folk rested on the saloon porch. At first, she thought it’d be more ponies, but she’d never seen a bunch of beings like those. One leaned against a support beam, mug held in a naked pink paw. Seemed able to walk on all fours or two legs, judging by its build.

“Allo there, luv!” A pink tail swayed back and forth, thick like a rope. The thing’s whiskers trembled as it took a swig. Wiping its snout on its brown fur. It grinned like a thief. “Fancy a drink? My treat, s’long as you find a way to pay me back!” Several more creatures in the shadows burst out laughing.

“Just ignore them.” Cherry Jubilee kept her gaze locked forward. “They’re not worth the trouble.”

The lead creature’s beady eyes followed them. Seemed to look all the way through her. Applejack suppressed a shudder. “Here, now, mum.” The lead being, dressed in a vest and bowler cap, called after Ms. Jubilee. “No need to go wandering off! Why not introduce us to your new girl?” He took a step off the porch, but Big Macintosh drew up next to Applejack. The creature sized her brother up for a moment, then retreated back to the shadows. “Another time! Not like I don’t know where to look, right lads?” More laughter.

“Don’t remember them fellas being here.” said Applejack once they rounded the corner. “Heck, don’t even know what they are.”

“They got called in just after you left.” said Cherry Jubilee. “And everything went downhill after that. It’s become a nightmare, Applejack. An absolute nightmare!” Her lip set to trembling.

“What’s been going on, Ms. Jubilee?” They were in a deserted part of the street, though Applejack could feel a good number of eyes watching.

Cherry Jubilee shook her head. “Ain’t safe to talk in the street. Never know who’s listening. But I can tell you, because every pony knows, that the territory ain’t what it used to be.” She glanced towards the sheriff’s office on the right.

A sheriff sat up front, back resting against a beam and spit-polishing his badge. Wasn’t the sheriff Applejack remembered from her last visit. Brown-red coat with a blonde mane. A pair of snake-eyes dice displayed on his flank. A sheriff whose special talent was luck? Or maybe gambling. Didn’t seem proper either way. He glanced up as they approached and removed his hat before smiling. “Ms. Jubilee.”

Cherry Jubilee huffed and pointed her nose nearly straight up before passing him by without so much as a glance. Sheriff looked right pained as she passed. He nodded to Applejack and Big Macintosh but said nothing. Put his hat back on and went back to his badge like it would grant him a wish. A bulletin board next to the doorway had two fresh posters fluttering in the breeze. These creatures Applejack recognized, though only from books and bedtime stories.

Even by troll standards, those two were downright ugly. Blunt teeth reached on either side of their pig-noses. They had shadows for eyes, and Applejack wagered she’d never want a closer look. Bounty signs named them:

Flick Grumble: 25,000 bits

Pick Grumble: 25,000 bits

“Fifty thousand bits?” Applejack’s mouth hung like a busted storm shutter.

“Don’t go getting any foolish ideas!” Cherry Jubilee rushed past the posters like the trolls themselves were watching. “I didn’t ask y’all to come out here to chase brutes like them. Worse than the Varmin, they are!”

“Varmin?” Applejack glanced back the way they’d come. No sign of the critters, but she had a feeling they’d left their drinks behind.

Cherry Jubliee nodded, “Dealing with the Varmin day after day is bad enough, but anypony who’s gone off to collect that bounty ain’t never returned. Nothing we can do about those two, so let’s just get back to Cherry Hills and I’ll fill y’all in.”

Cherry Hills Ranch rested at the edge of town with green reaching out in all directions. Sight made Applejack a little more relaxed. She asked, and Ms. Jubilee agreed to a stroll between the trees. Applejack closed her eyes and listened to the land as only earth ponies could. The wind in the leaves said it all.

We’re ready. Our fruit has grown ripe. Our branches are strong and far-reaching. We want to give you our bounty. Why has no one come to claim it? We crowd one another now. Our branches clash. The cherries are crushed as we press for space. Where have our caretakers gone? When is the harvest?

And for the love of all things photosynthesis, why hasn’t somepony gotten rid of that blue thing?

Applejack snapped out of her state. Blue thing? The hay had that come from?

Passing under the low-hanging branches, Applejack took a gander at a cherry cluster. They looked ripe enough. Past time for harvesting. Branches needed a good trimming before they got too tangled.

“Ms. Jubilee, where are all the worker ponies?” For a moment, Applejack feared this might all be her fault. Maybe Ms. Jubilee hadn’t been able to fill her place after she and her friends went on back to Ponyville.

Cherry Jubilee seemed to read her expression. “It ain’t got a thing to do with you, dearie. I had plenty of workers to fill in when you left—though not half as good.” She offered a wink, and for a moment she was the happy ranch owner Applejack had known. “But, well, times are changing. I’ve only got one worker now.” She looked around as if expecting a wrecking ball to come flying past. “He’s… um…”

A crash sounded at the other end of the orchard. The shock went through the whole property and bounced several cherries off their heads. “What in the hay?”

Cherry Jubilee sighed. “There he is.”

XXXXXX

The doormat said Welcome, but Rawley Ratsnout guessed that if he flipped it over, it would say to my feast. He thought longingly of a pint, still cold, waiting for him back at the tavern (or whatever these yokels called it). His mates were probably toasting his memory right now, sizing up which one would lead the gang thereafter. Well, they were a decent lot of back-stabbing, self-serving blighters. He was sure they’d at least wait until Ms. Preda gave the sad news before looting his stuff.

Rawley was from a proud line of Varmin. But not too proud. No, his folks had made it because they knew when to duck, when to scurry, and when to pounce. He’d learned the art of the Sneak from his old da, his spirit now at rest in the Infinite Garbage Bin. Rawley could still remember seeing a glint in his father’s eye as Rawley tripped him over so the Bandersnatch would go after the right meal ticket. The son became the father, as the father became dinner. Rawley had taken his da’s words to heart. “The Varmin who strikes too soon gets caught. The one that strikes too late misses out. You gotta time it just right.”

If he didn’t go through with this, one of the lads might try and slip in first. Harumphey, most likely. He’d always had a shine for Rawley’s post. Or maybe Whiskers. Score some points with their employer like a greedy, back-stabbing tosser. Rawley would.

The white-painted building was the closest thing the Dodge ponies could get to a mansion. The west-facing side was all but scraped clean, exposing the dark wood underneath. Word was Ms. Preda had ordered some marble to give it a more regal look. Aye, and might as well hang a noose over the doorway while she’s at it.

He opened the door after a courtesy knock. The staff had all resigned when she bought the house from its previous owner. Rawley had never understood this “loyalty” rubbish. Seemed a good way to get yourself dragged down with the other bloke. Sure, he looked after his mates, but if it came time to cut and run, he’d be the one to cut first.

His whiskers trembled at the rush of potpourri that escaped. Overpowering, it was; like a perfumed fist right up his snout. He made a vow to swing by the back alleys for a whiff of the good stuff, then knocked again on a wood door frame to undo the jinx.

A sweet humming worked its way from the upper floors. Rawley followed it, his paws bouncing on the thick carpet.

Vaulting the stairs on all fours, he scurried down the hallway and drew up short next to a cracked doorway. The peach tiling beyond was taintless, and the entire room smelled of—the Infinite Garbage Binhelp him—soap. Taking his bowl cap in one paw and pinching his nose with the other, Rawley drew behind the curtain that shielded the doorway from the rest of the room.

“Mr. Ratsnout.” said a voice that reminded him of silk sliding across a dagger, “I declare, most of my visitors at this hour are more gentile.”

“Um, beggin’ your pardon, mum.” He worried at his bowl cap with both paws. The soap fumes brought tears to his eyes, but there was something thick and sweet underneath. Something he couldn’t quite place. “You see, me mates and I were sharing a pint, just down the way—”

A petite splash made him shut up. Ms. Preda said, “If I cared, I would go out of my way to ask. Your point, sir.” Now he recognized the smell. Meat. Raw and fresh. Shouldn’t be able to get that in Equestria. Local big wigs made it illegal.

“Yes, mum. Y’see, I thought you should know that Jubilee mare went and got herself some new workers.”

A pause. Just enough to hint surprise. “Really now? I wouldn’t have thought any ponies in the territory would want to pitch in with her.”

“They’s from out of the territory, mum.” Rawley swiped at his brow and thought of fermenting orange rinds. “Two ponies, a mare and stallion.”

“Two?” Ms. Preda giggled. He could just make out the shape of her tub and the profile of her sleek head through the curtain. Some of the water sloshed as she trembled. “Misery appears to be into small company these days. Why, I’d not give them a day before they turn tail and scurry off. With respect, Mr. Ratsnout.” He didn’t believe that for a moment.

“Thing is, these two ponies looked pretty sturdy. Mare’s got a fierce gaze to her, and her brother—they’s brother and sister, you see—he’s a whopper. Think they work at an apple orchard, given them cutie marks they got.” Never understood those marks neither. Why let the competition know what you were good at when you could just blindside ‘em?

The water sloshed as Ms. Preda slipped free of the tub. Rawley marked her sleek profile through the bath screen. Her wings flapped off droplets of water while she reached or a towel. Her talons scratched against the tile. He looked down and studied the scratch marks at his feet. Sweet, pungent rinds. All mine, soon… just stay respectful…

“Well,” Ms. Preda plucked a silken robe from a wall hook, “I suppose it wouldn’t be fun if they didn’t put up a little fight. And a meal is only enhanced with a little appetizer. Be a dear and round up your fellows. We’ll have to arrange a proper, introduction.” She waited a beat, and when Rawley hadn’t bolted, she said, “Now.”

“Yes mum!” Rawley dropped to all fours and sprinted, thinking only to snatch up his hat at the last second with a tail flick. He bounded down the stairs, and headed for the nearest alleyway garbage bin.

First the rinds, then the blokes, then the ponies.

Author's Note

And we're off! My first foray into My Little Pony fan fiction. I hope future chapters will impress.

Thanks for checking out my story!

Chapter 2: Life on the Ranch

The fact that a tree had toppled didn’t surprised Applejack. She’d seen plenty of trees fall. Been a might too close to a few and had the shakes for a week after. Thing was, none of them trees had been like this one. It was too big. Too thick. There were no breaks. Whole dang thing had been uprooted, taking a good chunk of soil with it. The hole could serve as a foal’s play pool. You’d need a ten-pegasus tornado to yank out a tree like that.

But here it was, on its side, crushed cherries everywhere. Made for a nice scent, but Applejack couldn’t stop glancing at Ms. Jubilee. The lines under her eyes were deep enough to plant crops. She sighed and surveyed the damage.

“Clutterstep?”

“I’m okay!” said a cluster of branches to the left. The wind kicked up as the branches shook and trembled. An earth pony’s head wiggled free with half the leafs tangled in his shaggy mane.

The wind in the trees grew to a howl. The blue thing! The blue thing!

Took a minute to make sure that really was his coat color. Enough mud and twigs stuck on him to make a passable timberwolf. The pony stumbled free and tripped, landing on his chin and knocking some of the chomp loose. He coat was a strong shade of blue. Reminded her of the deepest lake in Ponyville. His smoky mane drooped over his neck and covered his left eye. The right one wheeled like it couldn’t decide which way to look. The pony—Clutterstep—stood on jelly legs and wobbled over to them.

“Clutterstep,” said Ms. Jubilee, “this here’s Applejack and Big Macintosh.”

“Howdy-do?” Clutterstep held out a hoof to Applejack’s left. When she didn’t take it, the pony shook his head and his eye settled. Grinning, he shifted his hoof over.

“Hi.” She said, real uncertain, and shook.

Clutterstep moved on and shook with Big Mac. “So I guess you guys are those Ponyville farmers Ms. Jubliee called?”

“Eeyup.”

“Glad to have you.” Clutterstep smiled at them both.

“Uh, Clutter,” Ms. Jubilee glanced at the toppled tree. “What happened here?”

Clutterstep glanced back, grinning like Applebloom whenever she’d been caught with a hoof in the cookie jar.

“Well… the tree had a fight with gravity, and the odds-on favorite won.”

Ms. Jubilee didn’t laugh. “That’s not an answer, Clutterstep.”

The blue pony scratched the back of his mane. The tangled leaves scraped against each other. “I… I tripped.”

“Tripped?”

“On a root.”

Applejack blinked, a fresh pit digging into her stomach. “How in the hay does tripping on a root turn into a tree landing on its side?”

“I wish I could tell you.” Clutterstep shrugged. “I just remember a lot of crashing, branches in my face, and leafs in places I’d rather not mention.”

“Fine. Fine!” Ms. Jubilee waved her hoofs as if fighting an idea. “Just… take Big Macintosh to the barn and get the axes and harness. We need to get the roots back in before they dry out.”

“Right.” said Clutterstep turned to go, then paused. “I’m sorry.”

“Just go, please.” The Pony trotted towards the farmhouse, his head low. Big Macintosh followed.

Applejack waited until they were out of earshot before saying, “He’s your only worker?”

“The only one!” Ms. Jubilee sniffed. “Oh, he’s an honest boy and all, but I’ve spent half my budget on broken tools, shattered plates, you name it!” She rested her head against the fallen tree trunk. Ran a hoof over its bark. “I remember this tree, you know. Was the very first one I plant, all them years ago.” Ms. Jubilee looked out over the orchard without moving her head. “This land was nothing but dirt and tumbleweeds when I bought it. Folks said it wasn’t fit for planting, but I showed them. It started with this one tree, and every year I fought tooth and hoof to keep them watered. Kept ‘em growing. This orchard will be here a long time after I’m gone.” She started to tremble.

Applejack rested a hoof on her friend’s shoulder, doing her darndest to bring the same calm Big Macintosh always managed. “It’ll be okay, Ms. Jubilee. Whatever’s troublin’ you, we can fix it.”

Ms. Jubilee steadied herself with a breath and put on a pleasant smile. “Yes, everything will be fine.” She stood. “I’m awful sorry, Applejack. Here you drop everything to come and help and I’m already shaking myself into a frenzy. I promise I’ll explain everything once we fix this little problem.”

Big Macintosh and Clutterstep returned with several lengths of chains, two axes, and a long saw. Under Ms. Jubilee’s supervision, Applejack and Big Macintosh held the saw between them and cut right at the tree’s midsection. Clutterstep offered to help, but Ms. Jubilee told him to stay back and simply watch. “These two have been doing this a lot longer. You can learn a lot just by looking.”

“Yes ma’am.” Clutterstep sighed and pawed at the dirt.

Applejack and Big Macintosh moved at a rhythm only kin shared. Back and forth, quick as a jackrabbit and strong as a bull. With the saw handles in their teeth, the two gave signals with eye blinks, warning when to slow down or encouraging to speed up. Three minutes and they were almost ready to cut through the other end. Applejack signaled them to stop. “Clutterstep, y’all need to get back.”

Dang fool pony had been leaning way too close. The end cut was the most dangerous part. The blue pony nodded and retreated until his rump collided with a tree. Several cherries fell off and pelted his noggin. Cherry Jubilee watched the fruit split on the ground and sighed.

Applejack and Big Macintosh used the axes. Hacked away at the last of the cut until Big Mac signaled the last strike and brought the axe down hard. The tree split and gravity did the rest. The stump tilted upright, settling right back into the ground and filling the hole. Once the dust settled, you’d never know it’d been loose.

“Yee-haw!” Applejack said, “Give it a little time and the tree’ll grow back, good as new!”

“Neat.” said Clutterstep.

Cherry Jubilee smiled, but the lines around her eyes deepened. “Yes. Time.”

That just left the tree trunk. Applejack wrapped the lengths of chain and bound ‘em right tight before getting them fixed to Big Mac’s yoke. They set off along the edge of the slope, looking for a real gradual way to get the trunk down and back to the farmhouse. Applejack figured she and Big Macintosh could cut it up into firewood in ten minutes flat.

“Dang.” said Clutterstep to Big Macintosh. “You’re something else.”

Big Mac got that nervous smile that always popped up when someone paid a compliment. “Aw, nnope.”

“I’m serious. You make carrying this thing look easy. I bet you could haul Grumble Brothers to jail no problem. “

“None of that, Clutterstep!” said Ms. Jubilee. “I already told these two that’s not the reason I call ‘em here.”

“But it’s a good idea!” said Clutterstep. “Fifty thou would go a long way to paying off all your debts.”

“Debts?” said Applejack. There hadn’t been any talk of owing money when she’d last visited Dodge Junction.

Cherry Jubilee’s cast a glare Clutterstep’s way.

“Oh. Sorry. Loose lips and all that.”

Ms. Jubilee wouldn’t look Applejack in the eye. “I’ll tell you all about it over a cup of tea.

XXXXXX

Rawley wiped off the last, sweet drop of orange juice from his snout before stepping into the tavern (or whatever). Visiting the nearest garbage bin had done wonders for his nerves. Such lovely scents. Home away from home, but without the fog. Now he needed to look calm, composed. Couldn’t lead his mates looking all frazzled.

The Sneak required that he not go in through the front door. Only an idiot entered the way someone expected. No, he found his way inside through the back, keeping to the shadows and darting through when he sensed nopony was looking. Rawley often boasted he could pluck the eyebrows off a pony without them noticing, and by the Infinite Dumpster, that was half-true!

His lads were all clustered around a table in the far corner. They all had different drinks than when he’d left. Not new drinks. They’d just pilfered each others’. Good lads. thought Rawley. Keep up the practice. Rawley slipped through the backroom door and traced the shadows up into the rafters. Stalking the central beam, he leaned over and let his tail dip low to brush against the gray fur on Harumphey’s neck. Ever on the alert, the lanky Varmin tensed and turned.

Quick as you please, Rawley hung by his back paws, swiped Harumphey’s drink, and downed it in one go. Ugh. The cheap stuff. Rawley should know. He’d ordered it.

The other members of his less-than-proud-but-effective troupe broke into laughter.

“Hey!” Harumphey stumbled out of his chair and fixed Rawley with his usual sour glare.

“Wotcher, lads.” Rawley landed with nary a thump and doffed his cap.

“Hey Rawley!” said Scamp. An energetic lad, the elder brother by two minutes. He kept the fur atop his head combed forward. “You made it back!”

“Told you he would.” said Scrap. The two were identical except for Scamp’s darker coat and the way Scrap combed his fur back.

“You bloody did not!”

“Bloody did too!” Scrap’s tail flicked out and tried to wrap around Scamp’s neck. The elder brother caught the attempt and dove, knocking over a chair as they tussled. Rawley sighed and helped himself to a vacated seat. Was important that the tykes learn not to get too attached to family.

Giant and stone-faced Whiskers leaned against the wall. He’d gotten the best spot in Rawley’s absence with an eye on all the entryways. “You told Ms. Preda about them new ponies?” His parents had a buggered sense of humor. His whiskers were tiny wisps against his larger face. Still, a right proud student of the Sneak.

“Too right I did. And made it out with nary a scratch.” He called over the clatter as Scrap and Scamp toppled a table. The bar owner shouted for them to stop, but didn’t make a move. He knew their employer. “Our dear Missus wants to meet these new arrivals.”

“Tss-ts-ts-tsssss!” That was Twitch. If ever there were a creature that needed a thought bubble for others to read, Twitch was the one. His black fur made him blend with the darkest corner, but his yellow and red eyes burned a little bright. Made Rawley right uncomfortable. Twitch clawed at the air, his paws flexing as if strangling something.

“Here now, none of that.” said Rawley. “This is just a meet and greet, per Ms. Preda’s style. There’ll be no busting of heads. Not yet, anyway. Clear?” He made sure to get a nod from each, though Harumphy’s was the most sullen. Gotta watch that attitude. Getting too big for his britches.

“But the bet’s still on?” said Whiskers.

Rawley leaned back and rested his back paws on the table. “But of course, my lads. As I recall, Scrap got the best swipe last time.”

“He did not.” said Scamp, “I did, you see?”

“Lying tosser!” Scrap elbowed him in the gut and stole his brother’s breath.

“All right, ‘nough of that.” The boys stopped fighting long enough for the others to finish their drinks. “Let’s not keep anypony waiting.” He nodded to the bar owner. “Cheers!”

“You gonna pay this time?” said the owner.

Rawley offered a nod. “Mighty fine accommodations, governor. ‘specially that pickaxe crest.” He nodded at a pair of rusty pickaxes forming an X on the far wall. A leftover from the Coltez Mines. The owner looked away for an instant, and that was all they needed.

By the time the pony looked back, Rawley and his lads were well on their way.

XXXXXX

“I’m sorry that I can’t offer you a proper table.” Ms. Jubilee served Applejack and Big Macintosh tea over a fold-out card table draped with her favorite cherry-pattern cloth. Applejack fought hard against the questions bubbling inside her, like what had happened to her fine oak table. She focused instead on Clutterstep, outside, putting away the chains and axes. Sounded like he was trying to pound all that metal into one of them art destructo pieces that Rarity always mentioned.

To the eyes, Ms. Jubilee’s kitchen was a mish-mash. The card table didn’t match the soft pillows under their plots. The tins over the stove weren’t as fancy as the cherry-pattern napkins, but somehow they didn’t fit as good as the heat-warped pans hanging from a rack. Applejack’s mouth watered from the scents of cherries and cinnamon. This was a home, sure enough, but it was a home that was losing itself.

Cherry Jubilee offered them a cup of hot chamomile, plus a half-cup for herself. Applejack was about to ask why when Cherry Jubilee produced a tin flask from her bun-shaped mane and poured a dark liquid into her teacup. She took a long sip. Applejack and Big Macintosh exchanged glanced, then sipped their own.

Applejack had been trying to think of a subtle, tactful way to get to the topic like Twilight always managed. “Ms. Jubilee, how are you in debt?” Applejack was not Twilight.

Ms. Jubilee took a sip and nodded. “Things were good for a good while. Nothing to complain ‘bout. Had hard workers, plenty of crops. This year’s harvest was going to be one of the best. But then it all just started to fall apart. Them Grumble Brothers started ambushing trains, stealing supplies, they even made off with the mayor’s house. His house!”

Applejack’s mouth hung. “Was the mayor inside?”

“Thankfully no. He and his family were all out on business.”

“Is he okay?”

“Can’t say. He went and hustled his family into a storm cellar last month and ain’t come out since. Folks leave ‘em food and all, so I know they’re still with us. Ain’t had much leadership since then.”

Applejack mulled that over for a second. “Wait, you’re staying them trolls stole his house in daylight?”

Ms. Jubilee nodded. “Bold as brass.”

“How come they didn’t turn to stone?” Everypony knew that broad daylight was safest place to avoid a troll.

Ms. Jubilee took another sip and looked at Applejack over the teacup rim. “Sunscreen.”

The word hung in the air like a storm cloud, just a-waiting to rain. Applejack said, “Ya’ll are pulling my hoof.”

“I’m saying the honest truth. SPF one million, near as I can figure. Keeps ‘em walking when they should be a pair of statues. It’s all the… sheriff and his boys can do to keep them for robbing us blind. They’re hiding out in old Coltez Mines, you see. Real deep shafts, with a lot of natural gas pockets. A right dangerous place. Even the Diamond Dogs avoid it now. No pony who’s gone after that bounty has come back. That’s why I don’t want you two or Clutterstep getting any foalish ideas.” She glanced at them both until she got a nod.

“Fair ‘nough,” said Applejack. “But I don’t see how that leads to debt?”

Ms. Jubilee poured herself another drink. No tea this time. “Well, I was in the middle of a big expansion. Some new acres for orchards. A shiny new plow. Extra workers. I thought that Cherry Hills Ranch was gonna become the go-place for all the big city markets. Them Grumble brothers hijacked a lot of my supplies, and the insurance companies didn’t buy the whole ‘sunscreen trolls’ story. So there was a huge investment just out the window.” She sighed. “And I wasn’t the only pony who got hit hard. Lots of stores had trouble getting in supplies and had to pay for extra security. That drove the prices higher than Celestia’s sun. Raised the cost of living. So I had to pay my workers more and pay for more security. Then there were all them accidents and I had to let workers go or they just up and quit and I—”

“Accidents?” Applejack and Big Macintosh asked at the same time.

Cherry Jubilee caught herself, hoof over her mouth, and she blushed red like a fruit-bat. “I… I mean. Oh, I am so sorry!” She buried her face in her hooves and started to weep. “I don’t know what I was thinking, asking you two to come on out here. It’s just that I’m at the end of my rope! Some days it’s like I haven’t a friend in the world and I just don’t know what to do!” She started sobbing.

Applejack sat frozen. Couldn’t make head-nor-tail of this situation. She’d never seen Ms. Jubilee like this. It scared her.

Big Macintosh slid from his cushion and went to her side. Rested a hoof across her withers. Ms. Jubilee stopped crying long enough to look up and smile at him. “Oh dear. I look right crazy, don’t I?”

“Nnope.” Big Macintosh patted her a might too strong and returned to his seat.

Ms. Jubilee took a few breaths before starting up again. “I say ‘accidents’, but they didn’t start up until them Varmin came to town. Nasty bunch. They hail from outside Equestria. Not sure where. Nopony can prove it, but I know them thugs have been going about, roughing up the competition. I’ve had more falling branches and snapping lines injure my workers in a month than in the last three years.” She sighed, shrinking in on herself. “Got so bad that nopony besides Clutterstep would come and work for me. Bills kept piling up until I had to take a loan to keep going. But now she’s called in the debt. I’ve to turn over a crop to pay off the loan or I’ll lose Cherry Hill Ranch!” Applejack winced. Funding a ranch was no small thing. Even if she had to sell the land, Ms. Jubilee could be digging herself out of debt for years.

Ms. Jubilee took a swig straight from the flask. “I’ve put everything into this ranch, Applejack, Mr. Macintosh.”

“Big Mac.” Her brother said, smiling. Ms. Jubilee smiled back.

“I shouldn’t have waited this long to call for help. Kept telling myself that I could handle things. That they’d get better if I could just keep my head above water another day. But now I’m at the end of the rope. I need strong work ponies. This ranch’s too big for anypony to harvest on their own.”

A crash sounded outside. Loud as a plow landing in a scrap pile.

A call came through the yellow drapes, “I’m okay!”

Ms. Jubilee sighed and rubbed her temple. “Especially when that one pony is Clutterstep.”

Applejack sat quietly for a time, turning the teacup with her hooves. She traced the engraved cherries. “So you’re saying we need to harvest the whole ranch, and that there may be thugs tryin’ to do us harm and that trolls might cause us trouble at any given minute?”

Ms. Jubilee nodded, real meek-like. “I wouldn’t have asked if I had any other option, Applejack. I-I can’t pay your right this second, but I promise I’ll be good for it. Even if I have to work off what I owe you, I promise I’ll make good.”

Applejack’s practical side said that she should just offer Ms. Jubilee a place at Sweet Apple Acres to stay and book the next train home. Thing was, memories were getting in the way. Memories of that long walk after the Apple Family nearly lost their home to the Flim-Flam Brothers. The frustration during that one applebuck season week when she’d tried to do everything on her own and the resulting mess. The way Ms. Jubilee had taken her in when she was too ashamed to go home.

Then there was the feel of the place. This was a home. The one place in all the world where a pony could go when everywhere else turned nasty. Be it eternal night or chaos spirits or shadow monsters knocking at an empire’s door, Applejack had always managed through by holding on to hope of going home again.

An Apple honors friends. Her momma’s words.

Applejack looked to her brother. He nodded all serious-like. That settled it. Applejack smiled at Ms. Jubilee. “We’ll save Cherry Hill Ranch. You can count on it!”

Tears sprung up in Ms. Jubilee’s eyes again. She rushed to Applejacks side and swept her up in a hug that would give one of Fluttershy’s bear friends a challenge. “I can’t think you enough, Applejack!” She let go and sauntered up to Big Macintosh. “And I’m so glad to have such a gentlecolt here on the ranch.” She offered her hoof.

Big Macintosh shook it. “Eeyup.”

Applejack was about to bust a gut when a crash sounded outside and a shadow flipped past the window. A tree-shaped shadow, spiraling end-over-end.

You gotta be joshing me. Applejack rushed outside and found Clutterstep standing next to the chopping frame that should have had a cherry tree on its braces, but instead lay empty with an anvil settled on the ground. The anvil was half-buried, which shouldn’t have been possible unless it was dropped from real high.

Clutterstep stared at the horizon. Along the same path as the shadow had passed.

She hadn’t taken note of his cutie mark when they’d met. Been too focused on the tree. Didn’t seem proper for a farming pony. It was like one of those mind game illusion paintings Twilight showed. It was either a heart bound in silver, or a shield shaped like a heart. Hard to say which.

Applejack hated those puzzles. You were either one or the other, not both.

She stood next to Cluttrstep and stared at the same horizon spot. “Was that—”

“It was.” said Clutterstep.

“Should I ask—”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

“Any chance that could hurt somepony?”

Clutterstep looked to ponder for a minute. “Should land near the train tracks. Anything happens after that, I blame physics.”

“W-wha?” Applejack’s brain ached, the way it did whenever Pinkie Pie tried to make a point. “Clutterstep—tell me true now—have you got any history working on a ranch?”

The blue earth pony shrugged. “I’ve been here about two weeks. I’m getting…” his eyes darted like he was trying to pick the words outta the air. “Adequate.” He nodded, and Applejack pressed a hoof between her eyes.

“If’n we all get sued because that tree clobbered somepony...”

“Hey!” Clutterstep managed to sound indignant. “I’ll have you know that—minor property damage aside—nopony has ever gotten hurt because of me.” A pause. “Except me.” Another nod.

Applejack fought down a sigh. Three workers were better than two. She’d just have to whip the boy into shape. She glanced up at the sound of approaching wheels.

A white carriage had just passed under the wooden archway and was making its way onto the property. Real tiny carriage. Could only fit one and was pulled by two of them Varmin Ms. Jubilee was going on about. Applejack pointed it out, “Any idea of who’s a-coming?”

Clutterstep spotted the carriage and rolled his eyes. “Aw, crud.” To the house he called, “Ms. Jubilee? Company!”

Cherry Jubilee glanced out the window. “The sheriff?”

“Nuh-uh. Your favorite.”

Ms. Jubilee deflated onto the window rail. “Be right out. Don’t talk to them.” She ducked back in, then poked her head out. “Applejack, you just let me do the talking and keep an eye on those Varmin. Like to swipe the whole house if’n you ain’t watching!” Then she was out of sight again, her hooves stomping on the floorboards towards the front door.

“Who are we expecting?” said Applejack.

Clutterstep waved a hoof elaborately and raised his voice an octave. “The fine lady, Ms. Preda.” He blew at a strand of mane over his left eye. “Brace yourself. You’re about to meet the biggest viper on the continent.”

Author's Note

Ranch
Noun
A large farm, especially in the western US and Canada, where cattle or other animals are bred.

Have you noticed when watching the Last Roundup that Cherry Hills Ranch doesn't have any animals. Yet Sweet Apple Acres has both pigs and sheep. So we've got a ranch that should be a farm and a farm that should be a ranch.

Well, I am bound by the show's word choice, but I want it on the record!

Thanks for reading and I hope you're still enjoying. And thanks to the people who gave a thumbs up to this story so quickly. It's great encouragement!

Chapter 3: Penelope Preda

The carriage—Applejack knew it had some hi-faulting name—crept up on the ranch like a fox getting after a flock. Pink drapes masking the passenger. The two Varmin pulling it were plenty strong, though they looked none-too-happy. The one on the left was a surly-looking fella and thin as a reed dressed in trousers and suspenders. The other one wore a vest and tie that barely contained his muscles. Several more followed in the dust trail, running on all fours.

Big Macintosh hung back a pace, always the careful watcher. Applejack and Clutterstep stood to either side of Ms. Jubilee. They waited at the road’s end, a good measure from the house.

The carriage (was on the tip of her tongue. Applejack was sure), pulled to a stop and waited for the dust clouds to billow on past. Wind carried them over to Applejack’s brother, whose snout started twitching. Applejack eyed the escorts. The leader was still smirking like a knife, but he didn’t seem to eager to open that muzzle of his. Beside him were two youngins wearing blue or green overalls with holes cut in the bottoms to let out their tails.

Most unsettling of all was the one hiding in the leader’s shadow. Kept hunkered low, its fur all jagged. Had red eyes surrounded by yellow and its mouth was peeled back in a constant grin. Thing moved like it was hopped on something. Applejack didn’t care to know what.

When the last bit of dust passed, the drapes lifted away and a parasol hat emerged, followed by a dainty beak.

Applejack hadn’t met more than one Griffon in her life, but she was pretty sure most didn’t look like the one emerging from the…whatever. She was all sleek and petit. Her pale feathers must have been brushed twenty times each, and the cream-colored fur at least a hundred times. Applejack couldn’t quite figure how the griffon had managed to slip white slippers over her paws without shredding them. Then again, that seemed pretty small compared to the white dress with pink lacing that covered most of her body except for the open back accommodating her wings.

The griffon declined an offered paw by the head Varmin and instead landed with one graceful wing beat. She did accept an offered parasol with flower patterns and held it with one manicured talon.

“Good morning to you, Ms. Jubliee.”

“Ms. Preda.” A hundred unspoken insults followed after the two words. All of them said what Ms. Preda could do with her good morning and where she could stick it.

The griffon smiled and shifted her eyes to Applejack and Big Macintosh. “And a fine morning to our new arrivals.” She inclined her head without losing her gaze. “Penelope Preda. Charmed, I’m sure.”

“Howdy.” Applejack let the word trickle out. There was this weird feeling like she’d met the Rarity of the griffon kingdom.

“I am so pleased to see you’ve found some new hooves for the orchards. I’m sure they’ll make up for the… slack around here.” She looked at Clutterstep.

Clutterstep grinned back. “Love you too, Ms. Feather Duster.”

The griffon’s emerald eyes narrowed.

Ms. Jubilee said, “May I ask what brings you out to my ranch, Ms. Preda?”

“Why, can’t an investor come to check up on her friend?” Penelope Preda moved with fluid grace. Maybe it was Clutterstep’s warning, but it did reminder Applejack of a snake. “I dare say that we won’t get to have these charming meetings for much longer.” She ambled up to Big Macintosh. “Oh my. You certainly are a fine catch. Like a big, red apple.” She leaned a might too close for Applejack’s taste.

“Eeyup.” Big Macintosh gasped between trying to hold in a sneeze. Ms. Preda produced a kerchief and let it flutter on the wind until Big Macintosh snatched it out of the air. A cloud of dust tickled his nose and he blew into the lacy cloth. “Thanks.” He made to hand it back to Ms. Preda.

The griffon recoiled and nearly missed a step. “Do keep it. Please.”

Clutterstep laughed, earning him a fresh glare from both Ms. Preda and Ms. Jubilee. “What? You can’t pay for this kind of entertainment.”

“A-hem.” Ms. Preda left Big Macintosh and the kerchief. She circled around Ms. Jubilee, all prowl again. “I just came to confirm our arrangement. Per our terms, I’ll have several representatives from Manehatten, Baltimare, and Las Pegasus present for the harvesting three days hence. I trust you’ll be able to turn over a sufficient product to clear your debt?”

Ms. Jubilee stiffened at “debt”, but kept her poker face. “Three days. We’ll be ready.”

“I am ever-so-pleased to hear that.” Ms. Preda’s tail swayed over the orchard view. “I must confess that I harbored some doubts. There’s just so much here to harvest.”

“Get!” Applejack whirled around to see one of the Varmin—the burly one—being expelled from the house. For all the being’s size, Big Macintosh was bigger and stronger. Her brother followed the Varmin out of the house and only stopped when the prowler rejoined the hissing group. Applejack hadn’t noticed him break away.

Ms. Jubilee’s scowl went from the cronies to their boss. “My workers can handle it just fine. A good deal better than your thugs could.” The Varmin all traded looks.

“Heee-sh-sh-sh-sh!” the twitchy-looking one pawed at something in the air.

“Oh, they’re not meant for ranch work.” said Ms. Preda. “Nor am I, to be fair. No, if the worst should happen and I must claim my collateral, I think I’ll sell this place to that fellow from Los Pegasus I mentioned. He expressed an interest in opening up a new casino chain on the frontier.”

Ms. Jubilee’s tension slacked and her eyes shrank. “You’d… you’d tear down my orchards?”

“To the last root.”

“Now hold on!” snapped Applejack. “This here’s good land. There ain’t no reason—”

“I have no interest for digging in the dirt and getting all sweaty.” Ms. Preda’s words cut through Applejack’s anger. “No cherries or apples or any other crop. It’s rather, well, filthy.” She shuddered.

“You should start a snake farm.” Clutterstep gained everyone’s attention. “You know, have the family out.”

It might have been the wind, but Applejack could swear she heard Ms. Preda growl while her Varmin fought to cover grins. Ms. Preda recovered and said, “We seem to be losing what little civility remains in this conversation.” She turned and glided into the—

“Rickshaw!” exclaimed Applejack. Every creature, from griffon to pony, glanced her way. She blushed and offered a grin. “The name… couldn’t quite remember.”

Ms. Preda rolled her eyes. “I wish you and your help the best of luck. See you in three days.”

She and her escorts were off not long after and none too soon. Applejack watched them race off the property, a fresh unease in her gut.

“Clutter!” Ms. Jubilee whirled on her hired help. “Didn’t I tell you not to engage that witch?”

Clutterstep just shrugged. “Did I ask her to marry me?”

That brought Ms. Jubilee up short. “What? No!”

“Then we’re not engaged.” He smiled, and after a moment Ms. Jubilee chuckled. It rumbled out from her belly and out her muzzle, then grew into a guffaw. For the first time since stepping off the train, Applejack saw her friend genuinely happy. That was worth all the apples in the world. “Oh, you are incorrigible!” Ms. Jubilee wiped at a tear and kept on laughing. Applejack couldn’t resist. All the laughter filtered in through her ears and filled up her belly until she had to start laughing too. Pretty soon Big Macintosh and Clutterstep added their own.

After a full minute, Ms. Jubilee sobered up. “But it’s not a good idea to egg her on.”

“What’s she gonna do? Eat me? I’ve been threatened by worse.” He nodded at Big Macintosh. “I think we should be more worried for Big M. Or should I call you Red Apple?”

“Nnope!” That brought on a fresh round of laughter.

They returned to the house, this time with Clutterstep alongside. Applejack kept pace next to him. “Been threatened by carnivores a lot, have ya?”

“More than average, I think.” Clutterstep stared at the ceiling. “There was a yeti in the Crystal Mountains that thought I’d make a good snack. Oh! And there was this hydra near Hollow Shades that was literally fighting itself over my calorie count. Then there was the dragon near White Tail Woods—”

“There ain’t no dragons near White Tail Woods.” said Applejack.

“Not since that tragic logging incident.” Clutterstep nodded sadly. “Poor thing may never belch fire again.”

Applejack couldn’t make head nor tail of this pony. Not quite Pinkie Pie-level odd, but a good deal more than she could focus on right then.

They gathered around the card table and Ms. Jubilee brought out a map of the property. Applejack studied the layout. Ms. Jubilee had done a good job of marking which fields were ripe and ready, which had already been harvested, and which trees were freshly planted. The cherry orchards were spread out nice and even, but favoring the back of the property near the cherry sorting line. “And we need to harvest all this in three days?” said Applejack.

“Uh, left that bit out, didn’t I?” said Ms. Jubilee.

“Eeyup.” It took a week and a half to harvest Sweet Apple Acre’s fields. Cherry Hill Ranch was about half that size. Still, it was a tall order.

“We’ll start on the northern fields.” said Applejack. “Looks like most of them have been harvested, so we can finish them up today. We’ll have to divide up and tackle the southern and western fields in pairs if we wanna get ‘em all done. And since the east field is almost all ripe, we can save that for the final push.” Then Applejack realized what she was doing. Dictating a plan to the ranch’s owner. Why, if someone had come on to Sweet Apple Acres and talked that way to her, she’d run them right off.

Ms. Jubilee must have seen something in Applejack’s expression. “Don’t you fret, Applejack. Like I said, I waited too long to call for help. You plan however works best for you. If something doesn’t work, I’ll let y’all know.”

Applejack thanked her friend with a smile. “Are you sure there ain’t any favors you could call in from the townsfolk? Even for a day?”

“Afraid not, dear.” Ms. Jubilee’s shoulders slumped and she seemed to be speaking at a wake. “The sheriff’s in Penelope Preda’s pocket—”

“Nice alliteration.” said Clutterstep.

“And everypony’s ‘fraid she might go after them next.”

Applejack pressed her hooves to the table. “Well, we ain’t scared of a griffon or her thugs. We’re gonna harvest this whole ranch in three days and show that lady just what Earth Ponies can do!”

XXXXXX

Rawley Ratsnout coughed on a dust cloud from Ms. Preda’s rickshaw (blimey, that bumpkin pony was right. It was a funny word). They were back in front of Preda Hall, which went by a different name when the owner wasn’t listening: The Meat Pit.

Rawley made to open the Rickshaw’s door, but Harumphy—that rind-swiping tail-cutter—was at the front. He bounded the shorter distance and opened the door open with a graceful bow. “Welcome home, m’lady.”

Silly bloke didn’t open the door halfway before Ms. Preda kicked it away and clocked him in the snout. Harumphy toppled over and gained a round of laughter from the lads. That all fell silent when Ms. Preda pounced free and landed with her wings expanded. They reached as far as the rickshaw and were often the last sound creatures heard before becoming lunch. Ms. Preda scowled at Harumphy. “Ugh, just look at you. I declare, hasn’t a single one of you ever heard of a bath?”

Rawley and company had heard of bath water plenty. In the same way that children heard of dreamstalkers, boogeyponies, and the tooth fairy (who in the world would swipe something and then pay for it?).

Ms. Preda stalked over and slipped a talon under one of Harumphy’s suspenders and gave a tug. The fabric parted clean without trying to stretch. “And such tacky clothing. Honestly, can y’all even begin to understand how embarrassing it is to have such shoddy-looking escorts. Makes a girl ashamed just to step out the front door.” She padded away from Harumphy, reached for her kerchief, and remembered what that big red pony had done with it. The growl from her throat went right through Rawley’s bones.

She slipped it back out of hearing and settled on a delicate cough. “I shall be in my office. Do... dust something!” She stalked into the Meat Pit and shook the foundation when her office door slammed.

Rawley’s mates held their breaths for a tick before breaking back into laughter.

“She got you good, Harumphy.” said Whiskers. He was a decent bloke by local standards. Even offered Harumphy a paw, which the other stupidly accepted.

“Right then.” said Rawley as his mates gathered round. “What’ve we got, my lads?”

Little Scamp and Scrap whispered between each other before each pulled out a fork and spoon with little cherries emblems in the handles.

“What?” said Rawley. “No knife?”

“He was gonna grab the knife.” Scamp pointed at Scrap.

“Was not. He was.” Scrap pointed to Scamp.

“You ruddy liar!”

“You tosser!” The fork and spoon when skywards as the two of them lunged at each other and started swinging paws. Rawley rolled his eyes while the two of them kicked up a fresh dust cloud. Not wanting to waste a half-good swipe, he caught the utensils mid-air and tucked them into his vest.

“You next, Whiskers.”

The giant bloke reached into the pocket of his vest and pulled out a comb, then held up a trowel.

“Oy!” Harumphy checked the sagging half of his trousers and came up with nothing. Shouldn’t have taken that offered paw.

“Not bad.” said Rawley.

“Would have gotten a plate too.” said Whiskers, “If that red bloke hadn’t kicked me out.”

“Ah, well, ce la ve, as them Prance ponies say.” Rawley smiled at his chief rival. “Guess there’s no point in asking you.” Harumphy’s glare promised that, one day, Rawley would be stuck in a corner with something horrible bearing down on him; and if that something wasn’t Harumphy then he’d bloody well make sure he was controlling it.

Rawley took a moment to compose himself before turning to the last member of his happy troop. He didn’t like to look Twitch in the eye. Had this weird feeling that Twitch was looking straight through him. Plus his eyes couldn’t stay still. “And?”

“Tsh-sh-sh-sh!” Twitch’s paws traveled the entire length of his body, twice, before pulled out a red cherry and a yellow one. Where he had kept them was a matter of debate, what with his lack of clothes and all. Barely had time to take in the sight before he gobbled them up. His lips made a creepy smacking.

“Right...” Rawley cleared his throat. “Well, can’t fault the survival instinct, eh lads? But I’ll claim top scavenge for this round.” He reached into the inner pockets of his vest and flourished a yellow scarf with hoof-stitched cherries and leafs tracing the edge. “Old bat’s got a bit of an obsession, wouldn’t you say?”

Whisker squinted at the waving fabric. “How’d you snag that?”

“Followed you in and nipped it whilst ol’ big red was giving you the toss.” Rawley winked. Best time to steal was when another thief was getting caught. “Now, lads, we all know what a state the Missus gets in when she’s upset. Something about that disaster area they call Clutterstep. Gets her skirt right in a twist.” He turned at the doorstep, gave them his most winning smile. “And since she feels so much better after a good cleaning, and ol’ Harumphy failed to turn anything up, I say he should be the one to dust the Pit top to bottom.” Everyone but the weakest link cheered.

Rawley, by the by, slipped into the mansion and found his way to the mistress’ main office. Needed to get the group back in her good graces, and nothing did that like a bit of snatch. Her slam had broken the lock, so the door was open just a crack. Rawley knocked.

“Enter.”

Rawley slipped inside, keeping to the shadow of the griffin bust. Nasty looking bit of work. Some long-lost conqueror, if he remembered right.

Ms. Preda sat at a massive oak table loaded with papers and ledgers. A bottle of disinfectant waited within reach. She wrote in a book with a quill (not of her own stock). The sharp scribbles sounded like scratches in Rawley’s brain, mixing with the constant ticking of the ornate clock in the corner.

Ms. Preda didn’t look up from her book. “You must have something good to risk coming in here.”

Rawley crossed the distance, stepping over the Manticore rug. Technically, it wasn’t a crime to own such a rug. Just a crime to sell it. The beast’s tail hung over the fireplace, surrounded by pictures of ponies who’d lost their jobs or homes.

Quieter than a last breath, Rawley lay the scarf on the desk. Ms. Preda glanced up from her book, narrowed her eyes at the fabric, and set the quill on top of the ink well. “This is what you bring me?”

Rawley held up his bowler hat like a shield. “Beggin’ your pardon, mum. It was the best we could find.”

“And just where were you looking? Cherry Jubilee’s dressing room? Her coat rack? Did ya’ll ever consider checking her office? Maybe find a deed, or some juicy bit of gossip?”

“N... no, mum.” Students of the Sneak didn’t go for the good stuff in broad daylight. Especially not with so many eyes on the grounds. Ms. Preda didn’t appreciate the art of the Sneak, even though Rawley’s mates had brought her plenty of goods in the past.

“Get out.”

Rawley nodded and reached for the scaf.

“Leave it.”

A hundred nick-nacks and babbles called out for a good swiping, but Rawley ignored them. Nothing in that room was half so valuable as the beating he’d avoid by leaving Ms. Preda’s office.

Rawley paused at call from outside. Voices of the townsfolk in the streets. It kept growing until the whole of Dodge Junction was in a fuss.

Even Ms. Preda stepped away from her desk. She peeked through a pink curtain and scowled at the ponies. “Now what in the four winds has got all of them stirred up?”

XXXXXX

It took an hour before Applejack could admit her plan wasn’t going to fly. Harvesting the northern field was taking a lot longer than expected. Cherries were more delicate than apples, and Big Macintosh was just out of his element. His first few tries were messy at best. One solid kick had flung a branch-full at Applejack, staining her coat all kinds of crimson.

“It’ll wash off.” Applejack consoled her brother while thinking back to the mess her friends had caused on the cherry picking line. “Just hold back on the kicks. Pretend that the trees are more saplings, like little Figgus back home.” That had set him up right. Before long he’d be a natural.

Far worse was Clutterstep. Poor boy just didn’t seem to have it in him. Applejack watched from behind cover as he set a basked underneath a set of branches that were far too high. Then he walked to trunk and kicked it with too much force and off-center aim. The cherries hanging on the opposite side tumbled down and burst. Clutterstep gave a tch and moved the basket, then tried again. This time several cherries landed on his noggin. He ran a tongue along his lips as the juice ran down his face, then spat. “Yuck!”

“Yuck?” Applejack approached him and took a closer look at the berries lodged in his mane. The skin was ripe and fresh, but the core was pure brown and reeked.

Uneasy, Applejack went to fetch Ms. Jubilee, who went stark white when she saw the stains on Applejack’s coat. “Celestia save us, it finally happened! What did Clutterstep do? Are you dizzy? Feeling faint? Don’t worry, dearie, I’ll fetch the doctor!”

“It’s cherry stains.” said Applejack and showed her the ruined cherry.

Ms. Jubilee’s eyes went wide the moment she saw the dark core. “Brown rot! Oh, of all the things!” They had to gather Big Macintosh go through every basket they’d picked. “It’s a disease that targets cherry trees. Gets into the branches, the leafs, even the fruit. And it doesn’t show itself until the cherries shrivel up.” They wasted a good hour-and-a-half inspecting baskets for signs of brown rot. Apparently it could spread like wildfire. Then Big Macintosh had to take shears to the sickly tree and cut away any branch that showed signs. They’d have to burn them.

“I’ll do it.” said Clutterstep.

“Not for all the bits in the world!” Ms. Jubilee snatched a set of matches from him and turned them over to Big Macintosh. Her brother carted the branches off to the fire pit. Not wanting to miss out, Clutterstep volunteered to tag along.

“It’ll be fine.” Applejack assured Ms. Jubilee, who looked to be back on the brink of tears. “It only got a few berries, and it looks like we caught it before it could spread to the rest of the orchard.”

Ms. Jubilee sniffed and nodded. “It’s just… can you imagine what might’ve happened if it had spread? We’d lose half the crop. Why, I wouldn’t be surprised if those Varmin slipped off at tainted one of the trees. Be just their style.”

“Now, now.” Applejack kept her voice calm, the way Granny Smith used to lecture her. “We can’t go blaming every ill on them.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised.” There was ice in Ms. Jubilee’s voice. “Did you know I can’t find my dress scarf anywhere? Was lying right on my bed this morning, now it’s gone! Didn’t even see ‘em sneak into my home and they’ve gone and swiped my favorite—”

Applejack glanced over Ms. Jubilee’s shoulder. “I know you’re upset and all, but did you really have to call in the sheriff over that?”

“Sheriff? Why would I call the sheriff? Why, that cowardly numbskull couldn’t—” Ms. Jubilee turned around when somepony cleared his throat. The town sheriff waited, all business-like. The air around Ms. Jubilee cooled. She approached the stallion, stiff as a plow’s line.

“Sheriff Lucky Roll, you have business here?”

The sheriff took off his hat and held it over his badge. “Afternoon, Ms. Jubilee.” When she didn’t return the greeting, he coughed into his hoof and donned the hat again. “Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am, but I need to ask after one of your trees.”

Ms. Jubilee swept a hoof over the orchards. “Which one?”

“The one that was launched skywards around 8:15 this morning.”

Oh, land sakes! Applejack fought to keep herself composed. Clutterstep and Big Macintosh came up from the orchards. “Hey, Rolls.”

“Clutterstep.” said the Sheriff. Not unkindly, but there was a note of accusation. “You happen to know anything about a wayward tree trunk from this morning?”

“Oh, uh…” Clutterstep scratched at his main. “Well, I might know something about it. Though knowing and causing are completely different things. I mean, I know when it’s going to rain, but you don’t see any Pegasus wings on me, do you?”

The sheriff held a silence that could break stone. Clutterstep broke out in a sweat, a condemned pony’s grin stretched across his snout. The Sheriff’s tone was steady as the sunrise. “Boy, did you launch a cherry tree a little after 8:15 this morning?”

Clutterstep deflated like one of Pinkie Pie’s balloons. “Yes sir. No pony’s hurt, are they?”

“Actually,” the sheriff addressed both Clutterstep and Ms. Jubilee, “your cherry tree helped break up a robbery. I need you to come down and confirm that it was your tree that caught them Grumble Brothers.”

Chapter 4: The Grumbling Brothers

“I take it back.” said Clutterstep while squeezing past two frontier ponies. “I totally launched that trunk on purpose, and I’m awesome.”

“Now, don’t go counting your apples before they’re ripe.” Applejack ducked under a parasol that would have given her a black eye. The whole of Dodge Junction was out in force to see the wagon arrive. Her mane brushed against an earth pony still fresh from the barbershop and wiped a trail of shaving cream from his chin.

Ms. Jubilee was somewhere ahead, having gone with the sheriff to identify the tree trunk. Big Macintosh didn’t want to force his way through the crowd, so he was stuck at the back while Applejack chased Clutterstep through the packed ponies.

“We shouldn’t be wasting our time.” Applejack huffed. “Them cherry trees ain’t gonna pick themselves.”

“Oh, come on!” Clutterstep tried to dart around a mare from the dress shop and ended up plowing into a stagecoach stallion. The burlier pony shoved him away. “Sorry! Anyway, this could solve all our problems! 50,0000 bits isn’t chump change.”

Applejack shook her head while waiting for a pair of colts to dart past. “Hoping for a quick fix ain’t the earth pony way.”

Clutterstep stopped so fast Applejack had to rear back to avoid colliding.

“And I wouldn’t know anything about being an earth pony, would I?”

Applejack had to think a second to make sure she’d heard that tone from the same pony. Skirting around, she caught a glimpse of Clutterstep’s face. It was stone-hard, completely missing that goofy smile she’d seen when he stumbled out of that cherry tree.

“Clutter?” He turned and vanished into the crowd.

Suddenly on her own, Applejack felt like a right fool. Shoulda stayed on the farm.

The crowd quieted at the creek of a wagon wheel. Sheriff Lucky Roll and his boys were coming up, six pulling the wagon with Ms. Jubilee keeping a healthy distance. Applejack couldn’t blame her, what with the wagon’s contents.

The Grumble Brothers were as big as Manticores and muscled thick as apple trees. A pony could bind a dragon with the lengths of chain the sheriff’s deputies had wrapped around the pair. Even then, Applejack wasn’t sure it was enough. Their arms were bound behind their backs and thick logs wedged in their mouths. Their jutting tusks cut furrows in the bark. Still the Brothers surveyed the assembled ponies like they were choosing their next target. The ponies nearest Applejack shied back as the wagon lumbered in front of the Sheriff’s office.

“Which one’s which?” said a nearby mare.

A stallion next to her pointed at the Brothers. “See that one on the right? With the black ponytail? That there’s Flick”

“The one with the huge, rippling biceps?”

“Yeah, that’s the—hey!”

The mare didn’t miss a beat. “And I guess the squat one with the beer gut and bald head is Pick, right?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you should ask Flick’s biceps!”

“Oh, do you think they’d let me talk with him?” Applejack tuned the pair out.

Behind the wagon, the chained cherry tree trunk dug a groove. There were two indents in the wood. Indents that were shaped exactly like the backs of the Grumble Brother’s heads.

Sheriff Lucky Roll put himself between the towns ponies and the criminals, looking for all the world like he wanted to be somewhere safer. Like the other side of Equestria.

“Right then!” He called out. “Let’s make this quick so we can ship these two off to the Canterlot Penitentiary.” The Grumble Brothers let out a snarl. Applejack could swear there was smoke coming from the edges of their mouths. “The town of Dodge Junction does hereby thank Ms. Cherry Jubilee for aiding in the capture of these here wanted fugitives.” More growling. The chains whined. “And I’m sure that the good folks of Dodge will sleep easier knowing these two are on the first train outta town.”

“A-hem.”

All heads swiveled to the figure gliding away from the group. Penelope Preda approached the wagon like it was a flower stand. “I do beg your pardon for interrupting Sherriff, but pray tell, when is the next train out of Dodge?”

The Sherriff scratched at his mane. “Uh... well, the Brothers were robbing the last one. Managed to push over a car before that there tree walloped ‘em. Gotta get the fallen car off the tracks and get the train patched up... then, guess we gotta reinforce the car to hold these two.” Sherriff deflated like a balloon come too close to Pokey Pierce. “I reckon we could have them shipped out tomorrow morning.”

“I see.” Preda nodded somberly. “Well, I am sure we will all let out a breath of relief after tomorrow morning.”

“Yes’m.” the Sherriff cleared his throat and looked at Ms. Jubilee, who’d been glaring hard enough to break stone. “Anyway, we got plenty of time to show our thanks to the folks up at Cherry Hill Ranch and-”

“A-hem.” Preda raised a talon. “I must, however, play Tartarus’ advocate in this matter. Y’see, I took the liberty of reviewing the town code as soon as I heard these brutes were under lock and key.” She cast a glance at the several padlocks that linked the chain around the Brother’s chests. Each big enough for cattle pens. “I realized that there are at least three conditions that must be met to claim a bounty.”

She held up a talon, and one of them Varmin tykes appeared to give her a scroll before disappearing. The little one had a sheriff’s badge clutched in one paw.

“In order to claim right of bounty, a pony must meet the following criteria: They must present the captured party to the local sheriff or mayor. Said captured party must be properly bound so as to confirm intent to capture. Finally, the delivery must be witnessed by a third party, preferably a resident of the town proper.” Preda rolled the scroll back up and held it out. The tall, lanky Varmin darted in and took it, then disappeared. He had on a wide-brim hat, and Applejack noticed that one of the Dodge ponies was looking around quizzically with bad case of what Rarity called “hat mane.”

Ms. Jubilee’s face was turning red as her namesake. “Now hold on one cherry-picking minute! Are you implying-”

“I am merely quoting the law, Ms. Jubilee.” Preda smiled, thin as a razor blade. “And I am afraid that the law says that this is not a legitimate bounty.”

Cherry Jubilee pointed at the trunk and the line it cut through the town. “That is my cherry tree. Raised on my land by my own hooves.”

“And no doubt launched by that bumbler of a worker you keep.” The town ponies glanced around nervously, but Applejack couldn’t spot Clutterstep. “Regardless, are you saying that we should pay the bounty to a tree?” She giggled, and a faint ripple of laughs went through the crowd.

Preda looked to the Sheriff. “I believe we should count our blessings and accept this as one of fate’s kind gestures. Far better that tree struck these brutes and not one of our townsfolk.” A murmur of agreement this time, much stronger than the laughter.

“Lucky!” Ms. Jubilee looked at the gambler pony, imploring. “You know what this could do for me.”

The Sheriff poked at the dirt as if looking for the answer. “I’m awful sorry, Ms. Jubilee. The law’s the law.”

Ms. Jubilee opened and closed her mouth several times before spinning around and stomping through the crowd. Anypony with a lick of sense stayed out of her way. Applejack worked her way to the back of the crowd and found her brother. Big Macintosh just looked at her, all somber, and shook his head.

“It ain’t right.” said Applejack.

“Nnope.”

“And their ain’t a thing we can do about it.”

“Yep.”

They fell in behind Ms. Jubilee, keeping back far enough that they couldn’t make out whatever she was muttering.

Clutterstep slipped in with the group not long after. His expression had softened, but he looked as downcast as the rest of them. “That went over like a lead airship.” He sighed. “Still, did you hear the way those Grumble Brothers, well, grumbled? Couldn’t even talk back. Sherriff could have at least put in a jab about their smell.”

Big Macintosh nodded, “Eeyup.”

“Or their warts.” said Clutterstep.

“Eeyup.”

Applejack grinned. “How ‘bout them teeth? I reckon those logs were the closest thing to a toothbrush they ever done seen.”

“Eeyup!” The three of them shared a quiet laugh. And just like that, whatever kind of argument she and Clutterstep had dissolved into the wind.

“That sheriff.” Ms. Jubilee stopped and waited, trembling. “If Penelope Preda is a snake, then what does that make him? He has to look up just see a snake’s belly!” Applejack and Big Macintosh came up to her on either side.

“It’s always like this.” Ms. Jubilee sobbed. “That witch has the town law memorized cover to cover. Ain’t no pony can oppose her without becoming a criminal, and the Sherriff ain’t opposed her once since the day she gave him that badge!” Ms. Jubilee looked to Applejack, tears streaming down her cheeks. “She going to take my livelihood, Applejack. And she’s gonna do it legally.”

Applejack drew her friend into a hug, but couldn’t think on what to say.

“Crafted by the noblest intent and tempered by time, we follow the word of the law even when our hearts cry out for fairness. For if we were to venture beyond its shelter, where would we turn when faced with life’s cruelties?”

The three ponies turned to stare at Clutterstep, who was looking back towards the horizon. He realized they were watching and put on a sheepish grin. “Just... something I once heard. From a very wise and frustrated pony.” He walked up to Ms. Jubilee, wearing a gentle smile now. Seemed to have one for every occasion. “Ms. Feather Duster just kept us from one payday. We’re still going to make her choke on that bill of sale.”

Ms. Jubilee nodded and wiped the tears from her eyes. “Yes. You’re right. I’m sorry for blubbering, everypony. Let’s get back on the ranch and back to work.”

The earth ponies nodded agreement, but Applejack kept an eye on Clutterstep the whole way back.

When he’d talked about the law, he’d been looking to the northwest.

Towards Canterlot.

XXXXXX

They worked past dusk, to when the first star and Princess Luna’s moon appeared. Applejack wanted to continue. To make up for time lost on the trip to town and all the crates Clutterstep knocked over and had to refill. Granny Smith would have had a conniption if Applejack had bruised that many apples during the harvest.

All it took was one shake of the head from Big Macintosh to tell her she was pushing too hard. Harvesting an unfamiliar orchard and night was as good away to break a leg or neck as jumping off Ghastly Gorge.

The ponies retired to Ms. Jubilee’s house for a supper of leftover goods.

“I’m awful sorry I can’t offer you dears a proper meal.” Ms. Jubilee said as she set the plates in front of them. Salad with almonds and a light-cherry dressing, biscuits, and sweet mugs of cider. A cherry pie warmed in the oven.

“If this is an improper meal,” Clutterstep said between mouthfuls, “then I’m the king of Equestria. Isn’t that right, Big M?”

“Eeyup.” Her brother was showing more restraint, but Applejack noticed that Ms. Jubilee had favored him with the largest servings.

Applejack grinned at Clutterstep. “Big M?”

“Uh-huh.” Clutterstep popped a biscuit and chewed. “You not big on nicknames, Jack?”

“Oh, land sakes!” Ms. Jubilee laughed. “Clutter, you could at least choose a more complimentary name.”

“It’s all fine.” said Applejack. “My momma once told me that a pony knows they’re loved when they have lots of names.”

Clutterstep started chewing more thoughtful-like. “You have a big family?”

“Eeyup.”

“Huge.” agreed Applejack. “Got cousins from Appleoosa all the way to Baltimare, Hoofington, and Manehattan. Me and Big Macintosh live with my little sister, Applebloom, and Granny Smith. We get together with the larger family every couple of moons at Sweet Apple Acres. Have a right good time.”

“Eeyup.”

“Unless of course, you know, stuff happens. Barns get knocked over and fruit-bats attack. That wasn’t so much fun.”

“Nnope.”

Applejack took a swig of cider to clear the air. “And then there’s the times we have my friends over. Pinkie Pie throws the crazies parties and things just go from there. Big Bro, you remember that time you woke up and found out we’d styled your mane like Rarity’s?”

Big Macintosh closed his eyes and gave a firm, “Nnope.” The table erupted with laughter.

“That must be nice.” Clutterstep smiled at his plate. “Family dinners. Real nice.”

“Sure is.” She wondered how everypony back in Ponyville was doing. Granny was likely tucking Applebloom into bed, reading her a bedtime story. She hoped Granny could do the funny voices. Applejack was still practicing those with her little sister. Big Macintosh nudged her under the table. “Uh, how ‘bout you, Clutterstep?”

The blue earth pony wiped his mouth. “Never really fit the whole ‘family dynamic.’ It’s no biggie.” He was still smiling, but it was the kind a smile a pony wore when they were the only ones not in on a joke, and were just trying to keep up appearances.

The cherry pie was a welcome distraction. Ms. Jubilee even added a dollop of vanilla ice cream. A la mort, or something like that.

Ms. Jubilee covered a yawn. “I am sorry dears, but I’m going to turn in. Lots to do, lots.” She stood and went to the door, then paused and glanced back at Applejack’s brother. “My room’s the last door on the left.”

“Eeyup.”

“Can’t miss it. Cherry emblem on the frame.”

“Eeyup.”

“I never lock it.”

Applejack covered her eyes with one hoof. “Ms. Jubilee!”

“I’m sorry, dear. It’s just nice to know that there’s a big, strong stallion nearby. Make a lady feel right secure.”

Clutterstep muttered, “Huuuurt.” But he grinned the minute Ms. Jubilee was out of hearing. “Dude, you should go for it.”

“Huh?” Big Macintosh stared at him.

“I mean... you know.”

“Nnope?”

“Open door policy? Invitation?” The two stallions stared at each other. “For the love of testosterone, Big M! Am I gonna have to bring out flash cards?”

A light went off in Big Macintosh’s head, and his mouth dropped. “Oh!” Applejack didn’t need to see past his red coat to know he was blushing something awful.

“Yes! ‘Oh!’ That’s usually a sound-”

“Clutterstep!” Applejack brought her hooves down on the table. “None of that!”

“Fine. Fine.” Clutterstep waved a hoof. “Still say you should go for it.”

“N-nnope!”

The smaller stallion laughed. “You are a kick, Big M.” He stood and took his plate towards the sink. He tripped on the rug, and the plates went flying out the window. A half-second later, a crash. Clutterstep stood and sighed. “And that’s why she served me with the cheap plates. Smart mare, that Ms. Jubilee.” He headed for the door.

“Just leave it, Clutter. We’ll clean it up come daylight.”

Clutterstep rested a hoof on the door. “Oh, I sleep out in the orchard, in the south field. Got a hammock set up.”

“Outside?” Applejack glanced out the window. “In the cold?”

“It’s not cold this time of year. Besides, I don’t usually go indoors. Not safe to for me to be in a house, apartment, condo, castle, cave, outhouse. Last one’s a real mess to clean up. I barely ever go indoors. That’s why... well, this was fun.” He smiled at the Apple siblings. “Thanks. Goodnight, guys.” And then he left without another word.

Applejack sat in the quiet for a moment, nursing the mug of cider some more. “Sure stepped into a hornet’s nest, didn’t we?”

“Eeyup.” said Big Macintosh.

“You reckon we did the right thing?”

“Eeyup.” He had a way of saying that “eeyup” that was so full of certainty that it couldn’t be better coming from Celestia herself.

Applejack just nodded. Three days. Not a lot of time to save a ranch. “I’m glad you’re here with me, Big Macintosh.”

Her brother stood and walked over to give her a nuzzle. “Lil’ Jack.”

She laughed, “You ain’t called me that in ages.”

“Always think of you like that.” He smiled. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, big bro.” She nuzzled her brother before he trotted off to bed. Just to be safe, she made sure he went into the right room.

Applejack sat alone for a spell. She didn’t think she could sleep if the Sandmare herself was tossing a desert’s worth of sleep dust. Dodge was broken. A sheriff that wouldn’t fight for the ponies. A ranch worker who didn’t know one bit about farming. Varmin. Trolls. A lot to lose, and so little time to save it.

An Apple honors her friends.

She’d faced Diamond Dogs, Changelings, dragons, hydras, and a chaos spirit and managed to come home every time. There weren’t no reason she couldn’t do it again.

XXXXXX

“Bloody pony!” Whiskers picked another shard of porcelain from his fur. Given them a right scare, it had. “He nearly took out me eye!” he cast a glare at Rawley. “You could have warned me.”

Rawley shrugged from his hiding place behind the tool shed while that blue earth pony made his way to the southern fields hammock. “You gotta know when to duck, m’lad. Now keep your voice down!”

He’d recruited Whiskers from the group to make another run on the Cherry Hill Ranch and see if they couldn’t nip some of them documents Ms. Preda had been wanting. Get a hold of a few bank account numbers and they’d have this place by the tail.

Was all set to swipe in and out before them ponies was the wiser. Only problem was sudden flying plates that struck a bloke outta nowhere. Now their fight or flight urges were all worked up. Now wasn’t the time for sneaking. It was time to bugger off.

Yet the cautious Varmin moved when no pony was looking. So Rawley forced himself against the shed and waited for that blue disaster to vanish into the orchard.

Every other pony had shoved off after a little persuasion or an unfortunate accident. That one went through accidents without any help from Rawley or his mates. Had a skull like diamond, he did. Was near impossible to put the fear of Tartarus in him. Rawley would’ve loved to arrange for some disaster to take him that night, but being near him triggered the instincts that had kept the Varmin going well past slower and more edible races.

Smeghead was untouchable in the same way as a bomb. You could do it, but what happened next wasn’t worth the risk.

Once the pony was out of sight, Rawley waved Whiskers onward and they darted through the shadows to a low point in the ranch fence.

Scamp, Scrap, and Twitch were waiting for them at the boundary. Hiding in semi-plain sight. Rawley wanted to sigh, but any frustration got blasted away when he saw what Twitch held.

“Who gave him a saw?”

“Tsh-sh-sh-sh-sh!” Twitch was either trying to cut through air or show how they’d finished their task.

“Was his idea, you see?” Scamp pointed to Scrap.

“Was not! You said we should give him the bloody thing!”

“All right!” Rawley caught them both by the scruff before they could have another go. “Does this mean you got it done?”

“Yessir!” said Scrap.

Scamp nodded eagerly. “Got a dozen tree limbs just a-waiting to come crashing down, you see?”

Rawley set the tykes loose and they darted behind Whiskers. Rawley turned to Twitch, who had stopped having a go at the air and looked to be taking a shot at the fence. “Oy! None of that.”

“Hssss!”

“Did you cut the branches just so? None of them ponies will see it coming?”

“Tsh!” Twich’s head bobbed while his left eye couldn’t decide if it should open or close. Rawley resolved to nip the saw away at the first chance. Couldn’t totally blame the lads for giving it over. Twitch was scary-good at this sort of thing. Come tomorrow, there’d be a few new patients for the Dr. Hacksaw.

If they were lucky.

“Let’s be off then. Gotta see how Harumphery’s cleaning’s gone.” The shared a snicker and bounded over the fence into the night.

Whiskers pulled up alongside Rawley, matching his pace despite his size. “Booby traps are all well and good, but we didn’t get nothing! Ms. Preda ain’t gonna like us coming home with empty paws.”

“Let me worry about that, old bean.” said Rawley. ‘cause I understand that what’s in the paw ain’t half as worthwhile as what’s in your noggin. He went over the list in his head.

Granny Smith. Applebloom. Sweet Apple Acres.

Chapter 5: The Worst Worker

Applejack woke before the dawn. Had barely slept a wink, and was too dang sluggish. Sluggishness meant mistakes, like starting bunny stampedes or launching Rainbow Dash into the library. That wouldn’t do, so she crept down the hallway and searched the kitchen. Ms. Jubilee was a real practical pony. Organized her stuff a lot like Applejack. Maybe that was why this whole mess struck so close.

Twilight Sparkle herself couldn’t mix up a potion half as effective as Applejack’s morning coffee. Enough caffeine to give a dragon the jitters. The aroma spread throughout the kitchen and down the hallway, and before long Ms. Jubilee and Big Macintosh joined her.

“What is that brew, dearie?”

“My own special recipe. Sorry for helping m’self to your kitchen, Ms. Jubilee.”

“Oh, that’s quite all right. I’d welcome a cup right now.”

Applejack poured three cups and passed them around the table. Ms. Jubilee brought out a cream pitcher. The white liquid evaporated before it could break the surface. “I-it smells wonderful. Looks a bit hot though.”

“That’d be the peppers.” said Applejack.

Ms. Jubilee tried to stir it. The spoon dissolved halfway up.

Applejack and Big Macintosh downed their drinks in one gulp. Tears welled in their eyes and they both leaned forward as the warmth spread through their bodies. “Yee-HAW! That’s the stuff!”

“Eeyup!” Big Macintosh’s words strung out real high-pitched.

Ms. Jubilee set her mug down and offered a sweet smile. “H... how about you dears go bring Clutterstep a mug while I go over some paperwork? Be out in a jiffy.”

“Sure thing.” Applejack balanced a mug on her back and followed her brother outside.

Clutterstep hadn’t been truthful. It was dang chilly outside. Pre-dawn mist was still hanging near the ground. “A pony’s liable to catch a cold, sleeping outside like this.”

“Eeyup.”

Applejack couldn’t spot the plate Clutterstep had sent flying the night before. Well, no time to go a-hunting for it. Too much to do.

They wound their way past the trees, feeling the world waking up under their hooves. That was the joy of being an earth pony. You heard the wind’s breath and felt the land’s heartbeat. Everything that lived was a part of you. Let the pegasi have their flying and unicorns their magic; an earth pony never doubted they were part of something greater.

They found the hammock well enough, though it looked more like a cocoon. Darn thing had been twisted up overnight and wrapped around Clutterstep, tight as a mummy from Neighgypt. Applejack couldn’t figure how anypony could wind up in that situation. “Uh, Clutterstep?”

“Gud mumming.” came a muffled voice.

Big Macintosh reached up and gave the hammock a pull. It spun around and Clutterstep with a thud that spread over the entire orchard.

The blue thing! The blue thiiiing!

There was that whisper in the trees again.

“Thank you.” groaned Clutterstep. A ratty blanket draped over his head.

“Up and at ‘em, Clutterstep!” Applejack waited for Big Macintosh to lend a helping hoof before offering the coffee mug.

“Oh, thanks!” Clutterstep took the mug and downed it almost as fast as the Apples. He wiped his mouth and seemed to enjoy the aftertaste. Then his eyes shrank to pinpoints and his entire body stiffened. “I can see through time!”

Applejack shook her head. Lightweights. “Then you can guess what you’ll be doing for the rest of the day. C’mon now, let’s get to harvesting!”

They started the morning finishing up the northern field. Rather, Big Macintosh, Applejack, and Ms. Jubilee finished up the field. Clutterstep managed to not get himself hurt, which was nothing short of a miracle.

The work started, and stopped, when he kicked a tree at just the wrong angle so that the cherries flew off and pelted Applejack and Big Macintosh. Then the branch fell off and gave them all a fright. That was seven bits worth of produce lost, plus wasted time. Then he tripped while carrying another bundle. That was another three bits worth lost to bruising, and a second branch toppled off the tree.

The blue thing! The blue thiiiiing!

“Clutterstep!” Applejack sighed, “You gotta watch where y’all are going.”

“Sorry, sorry!” Clutterstep gathered up the spilled cherries, crushing two bits worth in the process. By mid-morning, they had finished harvesting the northern field and had at least a hundred bits worth of produce, minus twelve.

They met at lunchtime to divide into teams. Despite her brothers pleading looks, Applejack paired him up with Ms. Jubilee to tackle the southern field while Clutterstep and Applejack took the west. Way she figured, both teams needed a level head and a strong worker. No worries for Big Mac and Ms. Jubilee, but Applejack wanted to keep an eye on Clutterstep.

“I don’t know if this is gonna work.” said Applejack to Ms. Jubilee before teams set off. They were behind the house, out of earshot. “We shoulda been done a lot sooner.” She cast a glance around the corner at Clutterstep, who was minding to Big Macintosh as the bigger pony showed how to lift a harvest load without losing balance.

“I know it’s frustrating, Applejack.” Ms. Jubilee sighed. “But we need every hoof we can get.”

“He’s costing us time and money!” Applejack took a breath. “It’s like trying to corral a bunch of critters while somepony keeps running the wrong way. Ms. Jubilee, that boy’s got as much farming sense as a rock’s got feathers.”

Ms. Jubilee said, “Before you came, Clutter was my only friend in the whole town. He signed on the very day my last work pony quit. Don’t even have to pay him. Just a hammock to sleep and three square a day. Honestly, dear, I wouldn’t have held on if he hadn’t stumbled into town.”

Applejack’s ear twitched. “Stumbled?” That sounded like Clutterstep all right.

Cherry Jubilee shrugged, “Never said where he was a-come from; just came into town, walked up to a water trough, and fainted. The sheriff—the old sheriff, mind you—had to haul him out before he drown. Been a wanderer in Dodge ever since.”

It wasn’t hard to guess. “Knocked over some businesses, has he?”

“Depends on how you look at it. He once shook a house so bad that the family had to duck out. Good thing they did to, since the house caught fire not ten minutes later. A fire I think the Varmin started. And Clutterstep was right there, helping bail water as best as he could.”

“Uh-huh.” said Applejack. “And how much water did he actually get on the fire?”

“Um, that’s just a minor detail.” Ms. Jubilee rested a hoof on Applejack’s shoulder. “He’s got his quirks, but there’s a right good heart underneath. Give him a chance, dearie.”

Applejack was about to reply when a crash sounded from the wagon.

Big Macintosh and Clutterstep stood gapping at a fallen tree limb that had smashed the curves of several empty crates. That was thirty bits down the drain.

“Uh... He did it.” Clutterstep gestured to Big Macintosh.

“Nnope!” Big Macintosh gave the smaller stallion a shove.

“Hey, I did just like you showed me. So, you know, vicariously.”

Applejack cut off her brother. “That’s enough, the both of you!” She surveyed the damage. Ain’t no way they’d patch up those crates and still make headway on the harvest. “Big Macintosh, you and Ms. Jubilee are gonna clean up this here mess and get started on the southern field. Clutterstep, you an’ me are taking the wagon into town and getting some replacements. Don’t you worry, Ms. Jubilee, I’ll knock them prices down real nice.”

Ms. Jubilee nodded. “I’m sure you will. Just leave the owner with a little pride. He’s a friend. Least, as friendly as anyone in town has been as of late.”

“Maybe I should stay and help.” said Clutterstep.

Applejack rounded on him. “Oh no you don’t! Y’all are gonna fix up the mess you made. Now go hitch up the wagon and let’s get a move on!”

XXXXXX

“That bloody git!” Rawley hissed, nearly blowing their cover. They were tucked between a thicket of bushes on a hillside. It offered the perfect view of the working ponies, but was too close to earshot. Harumphy clamed a paw over his snout. Rawley shoved it away. “You still smell like soap.”

“And this whole plan stinks of failure.” said Harumphy. “Them ponies should be two paws shorter and ten paws under!”

Twitch’s work with the twins had gone to waste. Every tree branch they’d loosed and fallen, right enough. But they’d all fallen at the wrong time, usually when that blighter Clutterstep tripped and shook them loose. Hadn’t busted a single pony so far. At least that last one had smashed some of their crates. That had to count for something.

Sweetly stinking mercy, if Ms. Preda didn’t think that counted...

“We should just clobber ‘em.” said Harumphy. “Have Whiskers give ‘em a good swat to the head.”

“In the open? In daylight?” Rawley made sure his sigh was full of drama. “And which of us would go after that blue one? Or how about you tackle big red over yonder?” Harumphy didn’t respond. Poor fool still didn’t appreciate the art of the Sneak. Too direct, he was. Varmin didn’t fight until the odds were stacked, the match rigged, and they’d collected their share of the cut.

“Hey, boss?” Scamp was at their side. “We got the western fields all set up, you see?”

Rawley nodded. “Good lad. Maybe we’ll get a break while that blue bugger’s gone.

“Wouldn’t hold your breath.” Harumphy pointed to the ranch’s owner, who was trying to cozy up with the big red one. “Looks like she’s interested in a different kind of harvest.”

“Think they’d let us watch?” Rawley gave Scamp a cuff to the head.

“You kids these days. When are you gonna learn? Never ask permission. That way, no one can say ‘no.’“

“Right boss.” Ah, the young.

Rawley took a glance at the house. Now was the perfect time to nip in and take what they wanted. Real quiet. Real easy.

A voice called from the road, “Heads up!” And Rawley noticed that it had gotten darker all of a sudden. He looked up and witnessed something no creature should ever have to see: the underside of a plummeting crate.

“Oh, that tos—”

XXXXXX

Applejack wasn’t sure what she’d just seen. It hadn’t been a big rock. Barely more than a hoof-sized stone. Hadn’t even gone over it that fast. If Twilight were there, she’d be lecturing Clutterstep on how he shouldn’t be breaking physics laws or some such.

“Heads up!” Clutterstep shouted as the broken crate went sailing back towards the ranch. It crashed down in the cherry orchard near the eastern fields. Well clear of Big Macintosh and Ms. Jubilee. Applejack let out a breath.

“How in the hay do you do that?”

Clutterstep tried that I-didn’t-mean-to,-but-it-was-kinda-funny smile. “It... just sorta happens.”

Applejack considered going back for the crate. Decided it wasn’t worth the time. “Just take it slow from here on, okay?”

“Okay.”

The trip into Dodge Junction was thankfully short. Hop, skip, and a jump as Pinkie would say (and dance). Applejack and Clutterstep made the way in relative quiet. He wasn’t an easy pony to get a read. He tripped on several pebbles and his own hoof. Applejack couldn’t remember meeting a clumsy earth pony. A ditzy pegasus? Sure. But earth ponies were supposed to be connected to the world deeper than any other breed. Clumsy didn’t happen unless they’d been up for nearly a week, overworked, and so frazzled that they couldn’t think straight.

She blushed at the memory.

They stopped in front of the general store. Or rather, the ponies stopped but the wagon kept right trucking until it shoved Clutterstep in the caboose. The brakes weren’t working proper. “I should probably keep an eye on it.” said Clutterstep. “Besides, they—uh—won’t let me in the general store anymore.”

“Any particular reason?”

“Baking soda is a surprisingly dangerous purchase.” Clutterstep didn’t say any more.

The general store owner was hiding behind the cash register when Applejack entered. He poked his green-coated head over the counter and asked, “Is... is that other pony staying outside?”

“Yessir.”

“Oh, thank goodness! We just got the cake stains off the walls last week.” The storeowner stood upright. “How can I help you today?”

Applejack put on her I’m-here-to-make-a-deal-and-Celestia-help-you-if-you-try-and-swindle-me face. “I got me a need for some crates. Sturdy ones.” She thought for a moment. “Extra sturdy. Now, I got me some busted crates that still have real good timber and nails, so I reckon that’s make for a fair trade of 30% off.”

The storeowner frowned and slid up to the window. Peeked out real careful, but Clutterstep saw him and waved. The owner squeaked and ducked back down, his broom and barrel cutie mark trembling with the rest of him. “T-those crates look smashed to toothpicks. I couldn’t take that lumber for more than a 10% discount.”

Applejack peeked back out the window, just for show. Clutterstep stared back at her, all confused. She noticed that most of the ponies had deserted the street. The same dressmaker ponies were all staring out their building with hoofball helmets strapped and tied-on pillows. “We must be looking at different crates; ‘cause I see a bunch that’ll fetch at least 25%.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but we’re definitely seeing the same 12% crates.”

Applejack pondered for a spell. This one was a tough nut. She tried channeling Rarity, and a wicked idea came. “Well, I can see we’re of separate thoughts here. I reckon we need a third party. Lemme just call Clutterstep on in-”

“Twenty-four percent!” cried the store owner. “Twenty-four, and you can have all the pillows you want. Just keep that pony outside!”

“Deal. We’ll need ten crates. Thank you kindly.” She grinned as the pony vanished to the backrooms to count his stock.

“That was a right wicked thing to do, Miss.” Sherriff Lucky Roll stepped out from behind a shelf of battered-looking self-help books.

“Sheriff.” Applejack nodded.

“Y’all should know better than to threaten a pony with Clutterstep.” A crash sounded outside.

“I’m okay!” called Clutterstep. Applejack chose not to look.

The Sherriff shook his head real slow. “That boy ain’t a pony. He’s a natural disaster with a mailing address. Been tearing up half the town since he appeared.”

“So I heard. You don’t sound too fond of him yourself.” Applejack risked a peek at the book he’d been inspecting. The Dadgum Fool’s Guide to Getting Out of Debt.

The Sheriff flipped the book down and trotted over the hay jerky stand. “What went on between me and that... calamity is my own business. Y’all should be more concerned with getting yourselves and Ms. Jubilee away from that there ranch as fast as you can.”

Applejack scowled at him. “Y’all got some nerve, talking about Ms. Jubilee’s safety.”

Lucky Roll’s nostrils flared, but he kept his voice even as sunlight. “You may not know it, but I do a dang fine job of keeping Ms. Jubilee safe. There are far worse ponies who could have been tossed into this job, and they wouldn’t have given two figs about her. That mare needs to realize that ranch ain’t worth her life. Even if Ms. Preda does take it, Ms. Jubilee has places to fall back on.”

“Under Penelope Preda’s care, ‘course.” Applejack sighed. “How’d a pony like you end up with that badge anyhow?”

“That ain’t none of your concern.” The Sheriff snorted. “Just get back to Ms. Jubilee and tell her that I’m doing all I can to protect her, and I-”

The world shook from outside. “Oh, what’s that dang fool done now?” They went to the window and peeked over the rim.

Clutterstep hid behind the wagon as ponies rushed from one end of the street to the other. Several town ponies took shelter alongside Clutterstep, then screamed and darted indoors when they saw him. The wagon pony Applejack had first seen on her arrival dashed through the doorway and hid behind several bags of chicken feed.

“Hey!” said Lucky Roll. “What’s happening?”

“It’s the Grumble Brothers! The Grumble Brothers have escaped!”

She heard the Grumbles before she saw them. Flick and Pick marched down the street with lengths of chain bound to their wrists and ankles. Several links were still connected to what was left of the jail wall. The Grumble Brothers kept on strolling like there was nothing to it.

They were more gray than the other day. Wasn’t quite the pale sheen that meant sickness. More like...

“Stone!” Applejack explained. “Did y’all wash off the sunscreen?”

Sheriff Lucky Roll pressed against the wall separating the window and door. Had a knack for keeping his head down. “You think any of my ponies wanted to get close to those two with water and a brush? We figured the sunscreen’d wear off before we shipped ‘em out.”

The Grumbles walked down the street towards the town bank. They didn’t slow, and it wasn’t long before the bank’s entryway had two misshapen holes. A general commotion kicked up as Applejack dragged Lucky Roll into the open. “You’re the sheriff!”

“Yeah, which means I could arrest you for assaulting an officer!” He yanked his tail away from Applejack’s grip.

The farmer pony rolled her eyes and hunkered down next to Clutterstep.

“What happened?” The noise from the bank stopped and the silence became thick.

“Dunno.” said Clutterstep. “I’m kinda going through an identity crisis. I mean, buildings are getting smashed, and I had nothing to do with it! This is a real red-letter day.”

“Don’t be so sure.” Lucky Roll pressed down beside. “Them trolls was bound up tight til you wandered in to town.”

Clutterstep rolled his eyes. “It must be wonderful in your world, Sheriff. Every problem caused by just one pony. I wonder what you’ll do when I’m gone?”

“Breath easy.” grumbled the Sherriff.

Applejack was ready to buck them to opposite ends of Equestria, just for peace and quiet. “Boys! If’n you haven’t noticed, we’ve got a robbery going on in front of us!”

Lucky Roll crept out from cover as the silence dragged out. Applejack kept pace with him, but Clutterstep kept at the wagon, hooves resting on its side. “They won’t nab one bit.” said Lucky Roll, none-too-confident. “Even if they’re strong enough to break out of jail, they’d need ten cases of dynamite to crack that safe.”

Ponies bolted out of the bank, eyes wide and shouting gibberish. Were nearly tripping over each other to get behind cover.

Then the bank started shaking. Applejack worried that the whole thing might come crashing down, but the ruckus was coming from inside. Bricks smashing and mortar tore apart. Applejack made out the cry of wooden planks breaking under weight with a strange kind of rhythm.

Pick Grumble emerged from the bank with his muscles bulging thicker than Applejack’s head. He hoisted a metal cylinder overhead. Flick Grumble followed, bearing the other end of the bank vault with equal effort. The brothers worked well together. They had a kind of drumbeat going with their mutual grunts. Could win a three-legged race they way they were moving so perfectly.

Clutterstep was the only pony to find words. “Well, that’s novel.”

“What in tarnation are they gonna do?”

Sherriff Lucky Roll sighed. “Probably haul it on back to the Coltez mines, where they got ten crates of dynamite waiting.”

Applejack was starting to wonder if the whole dang town would be better off just throwing their money at the Brothers to make them go away. “Y’all left dynamite in those mines?”

“Course not!” said Lucky Roll. “Cleared out every stick when we came across them natural gas pockets. ‘cept the Grumbles stole it all back the moment they crossed into the territory.”

The Grumble Brothers worked their way down the street unopposed. They were already at the base of a hill that led past the town’s water tower. The gray of their unprotected skin didn’t seem to slow them down. If anything, it braced them to support the vault’s weight.

“We gotta do something!” said Applejack. She looked at the Sherriff. “Haven’t you got anything to tackle a pair of trolls? They’re making off with ponies’ livelihoods!”

Lucky Roll shrugged. “Better that than winding up like the last sherriff. Way I see it, a lot of debts are ‘bout to be excused. Now hold on there, missy!” He tackled Applejack just as she was about to bolt for them. He pinned her, though she fought the larger pony with all her might. “Ms. Jubilee’d be heartbroken if anything happened to you. I ain’t letting you near them monsters!”

“Hey, hooves off!” Clutterstep darted away from the wagon and made to ram Lucky Roll, but tripped on the wagon wheel. A metal snap sounded from underneath, and the wagon started chasing the Grumbles down the street.

Clutterstep had started the wagon at just the wrong way so that it kept building momentum. Before Applejack and Lucky Roll could stop tussling to know what was happening, the wagon was already halfway down the street and gaining speed as it crested the hillside. Applejack gaped as the whole wagon--busted crates and all--vanished over the line.

“Dagnabbit!” She pushed Lucky Roll away and chased after the goods. Losing that discount would hurt them just as bad as the Grumble Brothers making off with the town’s money. She made it to the hill’s slope with Clutterstep and Lucky Roll close behind just in time to witness the wagon overtake the Brothers and veered off the street’s center. It slammed into the water tower’s supports with a force that rattled Applejack. Even the escaping trolls paused. The crash of wood against bolts sounded throughout the entire territory, and everypony held their breath.

For a moment, the water tower stood firm. Then the wood around the bolted metal splintered and fell in on itself. The tower toppled, its metal tank slamming upon the street and bursting open.

A tidal wave washed up over the Grumble Brothers. They shared a mutual grunt of surprise before the water lifted the vault out their hands and tossed it back up on to the street. Applejack and the stallions reared back as the wave swept up, turning the dirt road into a mud pit.

They retreated to the general store’s porch, where the water finally stopped and settled into the Dodge Junction ground. Applejack counted to three before leaping off and checking on the two escapees.

The Grumble Brothers had been replaced by a pair of statues. Perfect replicas, right down to the leather and cloth clothing that still billowed in the breeze. The gray that had taken their skin had spread all over, trapping them mid-rise. Their feet were half-submerged in the same mud that tried to swallow the vault

Clutterstep and Lucky Roll stood to either side. The sherriff cast a scowl across Applejack’s neck. “Well, what’ve you got to say for yourself, boy?”

Clutterstep shot back with a smile. “I hereby submit the re-captured Grumble Brothers in exchange for the bounty.”

XXXXXX

Applejack returned to Cherry Hills Ranch mad as a hornet in a flyswatter factory. Clutterstep trailed her by several paces. Hadn’t said a word the whole way back.

“There you are!” Ms. Jubilee met them at the cherry orchard boundary and cast a glance at the waxing sun. “We were starting to worry. What happened? Where are the new crates?” She glanced around. “Where’s the wagon?”

Applejack tried to find the words. They couldn’t work past the burning in her throat. She grabbed her hat and slapped it against the ground, snorting pure steam.

Clutterstep approached at a good distance and explained what had happened. “We were all set to collect the bounty, again, when... well...”

Ms. Jubilee nodded, completely deadpan. “Penelope Preda?”

“Got it in one.”

Applejack found the breath to growl and take on a high-pitched voice. “If’n y’all recall, the second condition of a bounty is that the captured party must, I stress must, be properly secured. And as much as it pains me to say it, I don’t see any kind of binding on these here escapees.”

Ms. Jubilee rolled her eyes heavenwards. “So, no bounty?”

Clutterstep said, “No bounty, but since we stopped the robbery we won’t be fined for some, eh, collateral damage.”

“How collatoral?”

“You won’t want to take Claimjumper Lane for a while.”

Applejack gave the ground a vicious stomping. “And to top it all off, we couldn’t afford new crates on account of somepony costing us our discount!” For once, Clutterstep had the sense to keep his mouth shut. But the rage was on Applejack, and all her thoughts were pure red. “I mean, are you even trying to help anymore? Seems to me Penelope Preda should at least be paying you!”

“Hey!” Clutterstep growled back, “I’m not doing this on purpose.”

“You sure as shooting ain’t helping on purpose! We’d be halfway done by now if’n it weren’t for you!”

She and Clutterstep were snout to snout, neither blinking. “If it weren’t for me, the Grumble Brothers would’ve made it off with the town’s wealth!”

“Well whoop-de-flipping-do for the town hero. A shame you couldn’t get them to forgive Ms. Jubilee’s debt while you’re at it!”

“All right, all right.” Ms. Jubilee stepped between them and turned to Applejack. “Hollering won’t solve anything. We’ll just have to make a few crates from the spare lumber.”

“We ain’t got the time!”

“We’ll make them time. We’ll strip lumber from the house if we gotta. Can always mend it back after the harvest is done.” Was plain to see that the idea hurt Ms. Jubilee. She was tearing apart her home for this. She glanced at Clutterstep. “How’s about you go and see if Big Macintosh could use a helping hoof?”

Clutterstep nodded and galloped away. He didn’t look at Applejack.

“Dearie, I know you’re frustrated. Heck, I am too. But we can’t take it out on that boy. He don’t mean for this to happen.” She picked up Applejack’s hat and offered it over. “He’s good pony at heart. He’s just a tad accident prone.” A crash came from the orchard. “Very accident prone.”

Applejack walked in a few circles to clear her thoughts. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this riled. Not when Pinkie Pie’s clones knocked over her barn. Not when Applebloom busted her favorite plow. Not even when Twilight sneezed during a spell and Applejack spent the day with a polka-dot coat and peppermint-striped mane. “It was a complete waste of time, Ms. Jubilee! We didn’t get nothing but a heap of grief and now there’s even less time to get the dang harvest ready!”

“We’ll manage. We have to. We just have to.”

All the venom was bleeding out of Applejack. Now she was just tired. “Why do you keep Clutterstep around, ma’am? He might mean well, but I’ve seen twisters more coordinated than him.”

Ms. Jubilee walked to the deepening shade of a cherry tree and patted her hoof on the soft soil. Applejack trotted over and sat next to her.

“Clutterstep’s been let go from at least several jobs in town, and no pay on account of all the stuff he’s broken. I caught him napping in one of my orchards just when my last worker had quit on me. I’d spent the whole night weeping and was all set to wring his neck for trespassing. Oh, I must have been a frightful sight when he first woke. All red-eyed and unkempt. Bit embarrassed to think on it now.” She blushed and pawed at the ground.

“Backed him right up against the tallest cherry tree. His mouth was a-flapping like he was trying to use every bit of air. Can’t quite remember what he said, but I remember how the tree shook when he bumped into the trunk. The workers had left several cherry crates at its base and, wouldn’t you know, almost every piece of fruit landed in those crates. Harvested in two seconds flat.”

She giggled and gazed up at the swaying branches. The cool air, hinted with a taste of cherry, washed over Applejack and settled her blood. She managed to exhale. Ms. Jubilee continued, “Clutter gave me this goofy ol’ grin and said, ‘There you go. One night’s rent.’ Next thing I knew, he was harvesting cherries to pay for a meal. Then for a hammock and a place to spend the night. Then breakfast. I stopped keeping a tally and he just kept on a-working.”

“But he messes everything up!”

“Some help’s better than none at all, dearie. Besides, when I’m all set to despair he somehow knows just what to say to keep my heart going.” She gave Applejack a light nuzzle. “Just having a friend nearby can be a huge relief. So please, give the boy some slack.”

“I’ll try, Ms. Jubilee.” Applejack stood. “But I can’t make no promises. There’s a lot of work that needs doing. I wager we’ll be up all night this time, so I’d best make another batch of coffee.”

“Uh...” Ms. Jubilee jumped up and headed her off. “How’s about I make some coffee, and you coordinate with your brother.” She pondered for a moment. “Who, by the by, could do with a little less work on the farm and more of a night life, if’n y’all take my meaning.”

Applejack chose not to reply and set off for the orchard.

She found Big Macintosh and Clutterstep hauling shoulder-fulls of cherries back towards the house. Clutterstep was watching his feet like they were up and ready to leave the rest of him behind. Applejack couldn’t blame him.

“Big Bro, can you finish taking those cherries by your lonesome? Me and Clutterstep need to have a chat.”

Big Macintosh eyed them both before answering real slow. “Eeyup.” He gave Applejack one of those glances. The kind that only a big brother gave to warn his sister to take it easy. Celestia, give me strength.

Clutterstep set down his bundle and followed Applejack past the main road to the unpicked western fields. She stopped at the base of a tree that whispered it was ready for harvesting. “Lemme be clear. If’n the choice were up to me, you’d be back in town, looking for work.”

Clutterstep didn’t say a thing.

“And I don’t get why you stick around, seeing as how y’all got as much business ranching as a dog has sewing.” Still nothing. “But since Ms. Jubilee wants to keep you around, I reckon you need some proper schooling in harvesting. So unclog your ears and open your eyes. We ain’t got much time and we can’t suffer no more setbacks.”

“Okay.” Clutterstep certainly looked focused.

“Now, first thing you need to do is center your kick. You’re aim’s off, so the cherries go fallin’ the wrong way.” She waved at the trunk. “See how this one’s grain is swirlin’ to the right? That means it wants to drop its fruit thataway. So that’s where we gotta place the basket.” She dragged a basket over and centered it just right. “You can tell where the berries will land if’n you look at a few of the loose ones. See?” She pointed at a few cherries that had fallen without help. Clutterstep gave them a good look before nodding.

“Okay then. This here tree’s a good deal bigger than its cousins, so you gotta put more umph in your kick.” She brought up her haunches and centered on that perfect spot. “Don’t give it your all. Just the right amount.”

One swift kick, and the tree shook all its cherries into the waiting basket.

A crack sounded overhead, and Applejack wondered just what Clutterstep had knocked over again. She looked up, and time slowed.

A branch as big as her skull fell. Larger and larger until it seemed to take up her whole future. Move! She told her legs. They wouldn’t listen.

“Jack!” Clutterstep’s hooves shoved into her side. She tumbled, snapped out of her state and rolled. The branch’s crash rang like the end of the world, and Applejack had to lie still for a second and count her heartbeats.

“Whoo-ee! Thank you kindly, Clutterstep.” She stood and dusted off her coat. “Serves me right for trying to harvest so late. We gotta get some lanterns out here or-” She looked at the fallen branch. It lay cracked in the center, with Clutterstep underneath. A trickle of red ran dark against his mane coat and pooled on the grass.

He wasn’t moving.

Chapter 6: Bedside Vigil

“Stop laughing.” Rawley leaned his head as close to Harumphy as far as the neck brace allowed. Had to keep their voices down.

“Not laughing.” Harumphy grinned.

“You’re laughing on the inside. Now stop it!” Rawley was in a right sour mood. Being smashed beneath that flying crate and carried back by Whiskers hadn’t made for a chipper day. And then Ms. Preda had stormed in, all bluster about having to block them ponies from collecting the bounty on the Grumble Brothers again.

“Them Brothers are sending me into fits.” The missus declared. “I can’t have them out and about this close to the end. Mr. Ratsnout, either you and your hoodlums fix this problem or start running. And I promise y’all, it doesn’t matter how far or where you run.”

Rawley and company would never willfully run afoul of the law. Thumb their snouts at it, sure. Nip its wallet when it wasn’t looking, certainly. Yet Rawley would never go into the law’s home, bat the fuzz over the head and bind them up.

So how was it he was doing that very deed? He eyed Whiskers and Twitch, who were fastening the last of the ropes around Lucky Roll and one of his deputies. Both ponies were out cold with big welts growing out of their manes. When they came to, they’d have an awful hard time snitching what with the blindfolds and the gags. Rawley and co. would be long gone.

Except every pony would know they did it. Every pony always knew they did it. Thing was, none of them could prove it. But this was crossing a line. This was going from swiping the silverware to stealing the dresser. It violated the absolute rule of the Sneak: never get into a situation you can’t escape.

Lucky Roll and his deputy had been in the middle of a game of cards when Twitch got the drop on them. Rawley picked up the hand that Lucky Roll had been dealt and his eyebrows rose. Shame he hadn’t had this kind of luck the day he’d met Rawley. Though it hadn’t helped that Rawley had swapped a stacked deck. Had been a feat of glory, winning back his scratch from Lucky Roll and then driving the pony so far into debt that he’d had no choice to but to serve Ms. Preda. Bad luck, you playing a game with me.

“Hurry it up, you two.”

Scrap and Scamp fiddled with the locks on either cell door. “Betcha I finish mine first, you see?” said Scamp.

“Not bleeding likely!” hissed Scrap. “I’ll have this blighter out the door before you’re done with the first lock.”

“Hsst!” The lads might be the best lock pickers in Equestria, but they still couldn’t live up to the art of the Sneak. Then again, I’ve got bugger-all room to talk.

“Hmmph!” The Sherriff was awake and struggling. Twitched grinned all manic and raised his billy club for another strike. Rawley caught the blow and shook his head. After a few ticks, Twitch slackened his arm and padded outside. Properly silent, when he felt like it. Rawley sent Harumphy and Whiskers outside to keep watch. He considered having Harumphy take the final, most dangerous leg, but it’d be too easy to add something like, “You’re supposed to take out that bloke in the cap. Make it painful.”

So when the twins unlocked the cells (simultaneously, as far as Rawley cared), he was the one to pad into the dark interior and shimmy up to the troll chained to the floor and wall. The fuzz had used the thickest chains to hold them, and doubled the bindings from last time. The padlocks holding them chains together were simple enough, so Rawley shooed the twins outside. Cor! I’m sticking me neck out for me mates. What’s become of me?

This one was Flick, if the braided black hair was any hint. Rawley preferred to keep clear of anything that could crush him with one fist, and learning names made that loads harder.

Climbing the chains until his head was level with the troll’s, Rawley doffed his cap. “Wotcher, Mr. Grumble. Word from the missus. You’re supposed to hurry on over to the abandoned railway right fast. No detours.” After a moment’s thought, he added, “She also said that if you squish me or any of me mates or a stray pony, then you can consider yourself right buggered and deal with the consequences yourself. Sir.”

The troll couldn’t talk through the bite-gag log wedged behind his teeth, but his look said, “If I had just one pinky free, I could snap you like a twig and use the bits to clean my fingernails.” But the troll nodded, and Rawley found himself caught between returning empty-pawed, or taking a risk. Neither offered much shot at survival.

Producing a lock pick from under his cap, Rawley fiddled with the padlock over the troll’s chest. A few solid clicks, and the lock gave free. Rawley didn’t have time to remove it. The fresh slack gave Flick Grumble the room he needed to flex his massive shoulders. Most of the chains snapped loose. The troll finished the work by yanking the chains from the wall and tearing away the bite gag. He made to smash the wall dividing him from his brother, but Rawley jumped in front of those massive fists and waved his paws. “Breaking down the jail’s the same as smashing the sheriff! Ms. Preda don’t want one of her favorite pets getting flattened.”

Flick considered, then went to the bars and grabbed hold. He pulled them apart until there was a troll-sized hole of bent metal rods. Flick rounded to his brother’s cell and had at it again. Right proper job. Very efficient. Rawley heard grumbling from the cell, though too low to make out the words. He dashed out the hole the Brothers had smashed earlier. He cast a glance at the still-struggling Sherriff. You owe me. You might be in debt to Ms. Preda, but you owe me. His selfless deed of the century done, Rawley rejoined his fellows in the street shadows and watched as the Grumble Brothers emerged from the jail and set off down the street.

“Tavern, lads.” said Rawley. “Be with you in a tick.” He set off after the Brothers, following at a good distance.

The abandoned train tracks lay outside the town proper. Had been a part of the mine network until the ponies shut that down. Most of the planks and nails had been pulled long ago. All that was left were rusty rail lines and half of a small platform that had been used for loading goods.

Penelope Preda stood atop that platform, bathed in silver moonlight. “Gentle-trolls. So good to see you up and about.”

Flick and Pick Grumble muttered something dark.

“I was so very disappointed to learn you’d gotten yourselves caught. Twice.”

More grumbling, so dark Rawley thought the world lost some moonlight.

Ms. Preda stepped off the platform paced around the Brothers. “And to think you wouldn’t have to suffer any of these indignities if y’all had simply honored our agreement. But no, you had to go and try to steal sunscreen from my own shipment.” The fabric of her slipers protested, and Ms. Preda steadied herself with a breath. “And now we find ourselves at an impasse. I had to call in many, many favors to dispose of all that sunscreen lest our association be known. And now you’ve been washed clean of your last batch. I guess that makes you night-owls for the time being.”

She smiled at them both. “And let’s be honest. Y’all couldn’t reach the next town in just one night. And the Sherriff or his like would have the Royal Air Guard hunting for you the moment they realized y’all weren’t hiding in that mine. So the way I see it, y’all got little choice but to do as I say until I trust you enough to smuggle in a fresh batch.”

The Grumble brothers exchanged a glance, then nodded. “Good. I am so glad we could come to this understanding. And just to show there’s no hard feelings, y’all can be guests my home’s cellar until that nag in Canterlot raises her moon tomorrow. Y’all have to enter discreetly, of course.” She paused with a smirk. “‘Discreetly’ means not knocking anything down or being seen. Clear?”

The Brothers nodded.

“Well, then best be off. Sunrise ain’t that far away.”

Rawley waited until the Brothers were a good ways off before approaching Ms. Preda. “Beggin’ your pardon, mum, but why you want those two in your cellar?”

Ms. Preda didnt’ look at him as she dusted herself with the swipe of her tail. “Because it’s the one place no pony would dare look for them. Two captures in two days is going to take the sting out of their reputation. After tomorrow night, no pony will question that they’re still the meanest hustlers in the territory.”

Second-meanest, Rawley corrected. Ms. Preda glanced at him, and Rawley wondered if she couldn’t smell his thoughts. “That will be all, Mr. Ratsnout. Another moment of your aroma and I fear I shall faint.”

Rawley took the hint and set off to the town tavern. With a sidetrip to the nearest garbage pile for old time’s sake. The voices of his ancestors were calling, “Get out now or lose your tail!” and he was inclined to listen.

XXXXXX

“It’s all my fault.” Applejack buried her face in her hooves. The sweet smells of Ms. Jubilee’s kitchen weren’t doing a thing for her. Neither were Big Macintosh’s tries for comfort.

“Dearie,” Ms. Jubilee took her by the hoof, “y’all needn’t take on this burden. No pony could have known that branch would break off.”

“I would have.” Applejack felt like beating her thick head into the card table. She couldn’t quite remember everything leading up to the here and now. She remembered calling for help while trying to stop Clutterstep’s bleeding, then moving in a daze while Big Macintosh carried Clutterstep back to the house and Ms. Jubilee ran to fetch the town doctor. Then waiting. Slow, horrible waiting until the doc finally got on up to the ranch and went to tend the pony that had saved Applejack’s life. “If I’d been looking—if I hadn’t been so dang insistent on harvesting past dusk—I would have seen that branch was no good. I should be the one lying in there, not Clutterstep.”

“Nnope!” Big Macintosh rested a hoof on her side. “He wouldn’t want that neither.”

“But-”

“No buts!” Her brother said in that even voice that forbade any backtalk. “Blaming yourself ain’t gonna change a thing. Besides, Clutter’s a strong pony. He’ll pull through. And when he wakes up, we’ll be there to greet him.” He said it so plain-like. So direct. Applejack could almost believe it was the truth.

A knock at the door. The town doctor, a yellow earth pony with white mane and a hacksaw on his flank (not encouraging) cleared his throat.

“Doc Hacksaw.” Ms. Jubilee stood from the table. “How is he?”

“Well, I gotta say ol’ Clutterstep set a new record. Fifteen stitches and plenty of blood loss,” Applejack wanted to cry. “But if anypony proves natural selection’s a load of hooey, it’s that colt.” Applejack and her brother both shared a glance.

“Doctor,” Ms. Jubilee growled, “have you ever thought of a little something called ‘bedside manner’?”

“Oh, c’mon now, Ms. Jubilee. You and I know that colt’s darn near indestructible. I’ve patched him up so many times I start to wonder if’n he ain’t some kind of mass hallucination.” He tucked a stethoscope into a medical saddlebag and tossed them over his back.

“Wait a minute!” Applejack was between him and the door faster than he could blink. “You’re just leaving and he ain’t even woken up yet?”

“Well... um, yes?” The doc was sweating. “Look, we both know he’ll be fine. I mean, a broken leg one week, a sprained neck the next, he bounces back faster than a rubber cactus. Besides, if Ms. Preda got wind that I was down here…”

“Fine.” said Ms. Jubilee. “Get out.” She gave Applejack a nod to unblock the doorway. The doc scurried past without looking back. “Of all things!” Ms. Jubilee sat back at the table and poured another cup of tea. “Them Varmin are always swiping things, but Penelope Preda went and took the spine out of this here town!” She slammed her teacup down, the refilled the contents with her tin flask.

Applejack looked down the hallway. The door to Clutterstep’s new room cracked just enough to show the flickering candlelight. “This sorta thing happens to him a lot?”

“This was pretty severe,” said Ms. Jubilee, “but Doc Hacksaw is right that Cluttersteps got an unusual knack for healing. Tell you what, dearie, how’s about you keep an eye on him so he sees a friendly face when he wakes up?”

Applejack let out a snort. “My face ain’t been that friendly, specially not my mouth.”

“Now, now. None of that.” Ms. Jubilee patted her hoof. “I’ve got other work to attend to tend before... well, it just needs doing.”

Applejack said, “Shouldn’t we get in touch with his family? Let ‘em know what happened?”

Cherry Jubilee let out a long breath. “I don’t think he’s got kin. I’ve asked a few times, and he said things like, ‘they haven’t got a mailing address’ or ‘I wouldn’t waste the postage.’ Never seen him write a letter or send a wire neither.” She smiled at the Apple siblings. “Times like this, it’s important to have the right ponies nearby. You and Big Macintosh—Where are you going?”

Big Macintosh was halfway out the doorway, and Applejack didn’t think he was chasing after the doctor. He turned his head and said, “Gotta check somethin’.” And then he was gone. Ms. Jubilee stared after him right puzzled, then shrugged and turned to Applejack. She gently lifted Applejack’s chin and offered a smile before slipping into her office.

Applejack sat for a spell. Easier to get up and tangle with the second coming of Nightmare Moon then go down that hallway. When did you go and turn all chicken, AJ? Your mama and papa be shamed. Forcing a deep breath, Applejack stood and walked down the hall.

Clutterstep lay on a plush bed with several pillows under his bandaged head. The doc had pulled back his mane to do the stitching. Applejack couldn’t quite figure why the doc had drawn on Clutterstep’s face.

An uneven white ring circled Clutterstep’s left eye, like one of Pinkie Pie’s tainted spyglass jokes. His eye twitched, and the ring moved with him. Applejack watched the birthmark, wondering if she’d ever seen a pony with such a thing. Pipsqueak, sure, but that boy was spotted like a paintball game. Clutterstep had this one white ring, and he’d rather walk into walls than let other ponies see it.

Applejack reached out with one hoof, the way she might test a candle’s warmth.

The eye twitched again, and Clutterstep moaned. Applejack drew away, afraid she’d woken him. Tears welled up in his eyes, and Clutterstep let out a sob. The tears streaked down his cheeks like water from a spout. He didn’t call out. Just those tiny sobs like he couldn’t let the world hear. The klutziness and awkward grins were gone, and all Applejack could see was a hurt pony; lonely and crying.

“Shh, sugarcube.” She nuzzled him, taking his tears and trying to sooth him. His body trembled from the sobs. She didn’t want to know the kinds of dreams he suffered.

Granny Smith had sung a song to Applejack’s momma growing up, and it had passed down the line. From mother to daughter, and then between sisters. It was the best song in the world and helped set Applejack and Applebloom to sleep every time. Quietly, she sang.

“There’s a place for every pony

Whether they travel near or far.

It’s a secret just between us

And it shines like a star.

If you ever feel lonely,

If the world feels too cold,

Just remember that you’re with me

In the special place I hold.

No matter where you journey,

Remember from the start,

There’s a special place saved for you

Right here in my heart.”

Clutterstep’s sobbing faded. His trembling stopped. Seemed to be breathing easier. Applejack soothed strands of his mane away from the white birthmark and made sure the bandages were still in place. He looked a lot more like a colt when he slept. In a proper bed. No hammocks in the cold or worries about bringing down the house.

“Clutter,” she whispered, “I don’t know if you can hear me, but I want you to know that there’ll always be a place for you at Sweet Apple Acres. That song makes it official. Your an honorary Apple.” She held his hoof between hers and listened to his breathing.

When Big Macintosh came for her, the candle on the nightstand had melted to half its height. Clutterstep hadn’t suffered any more crying. If anything, he looked a more peaceful. More peaceful than Big Macintosh, that was certain. Her brother had a seriousness about him that set Applejack’s stomach to flip-flopping. He motioned for her to follow, and Applejack reluctantly tucked Clutterstep’s hoof under the covers and followed him outside. Ms. Jubilee waited for them, looking just as uncertain as Applejack.

“What wrong, big brother?”

“Look.” Big Macintosh pointed at a pile of tree limbs gathered at the edge of the orchard. Applejack circled the pile, not sure what she was supposed to see. Cherries still hung on the branches, so they’d come from trees not yet harvested. Applejack still couldn’t see what her brother intended until she came to the back of the pile. “No. They didn’t.”

The branches had all been broken off, but only halfway. The top half of each break was perfectly smooth. Cut by a saw. Somepony--no--some no good, backstabbing, snake-in-fur-and-feathers had made this happen.

Ms. Jubilee had seen it too. “How could she?” She sat down on the spot, staring but not seeing anything. Applejack couldn’t blame her. The idea was just too terrible.

“We need to talk to the Sheriff.” said Applejack. “We need to show him this. It’s proof.”

“The Sheriff’s in her pocket.” said Ms. Jubilee. “Has been ever since she handed him the job. Made him take it to pay off those foalish gambling debts. And there ain’t no proof that Preda or her Varmin did it. We know, they know, but every pony’s too scared to admit it.” She stood and staggered back towards her home. “I... I need to be alone for a spell.”

Applejack looked to her brother, but he shook his head. Ms. Jubilee needed her space, and the Apples were inclined to give it.

“This is wrong.” said Applejack as they walked down the hallway to Clutterstep’s room. “It’s all wrong. The wrong pony’s lying hurt. The wrong griffon’s got all the power. I ain’t never been so sickened in all my life.”

“Eeyup.” They crept into Clutterstep’s room. He hadn’t stirred.

“I tell you one thing, big bro, I’d give just about anything to have Clutter wake up. I need something good to happen.”

“Eeyup.” Big Macintosh sat next to her, a hoof massaging her withers. “I wished the same.”

Applejack glanced at him. “When?”

Big Macintosh’s gaze went all distant. “You were younger’n Applebloom, always following me around, asking if’n you could help with the chores.” He seemed to deflate, a wry smile crossing his snout. “Thought you was being a pest. I had work to do and thought you were slowin’ me down. So I said you could try apple bucking, and if you got just one apple off the branch, you could keep helping me. Well, you went on up to that tree the way a stallion went to war. All focused and eager. Gave it a right good kick.”

Applejack blushed. She’d always been strong for her age. Got that from her daddy.

Big Macintosh’s voice cracked. “You got one apple loose. This big, green apple. Perfectly ripe and heavy. It clocked you in the head. I still remember you falling. Seemed to take forever.”

Applejack said, “I don’t remember that.” She’d taken plenty of bonks from the stray apple. Though now that she thought on it, there was this little dip in her noggin under her mane.

“I’ll never forget. I carried you back to the farm and Ma and Pa and Granny set to patching you up. All I could do was sit in the corner and wish for you to open your eyes. Woulda given my left hind leg and every apple in the world to have you back.” He smiled at her, tears glistening. He hadn’t been this upset since she’d left Sweet Apple Acres for Dodge Junction the first time. “I swore that if you woke up, I’d watch out for you and teach you everything I knew about apple bucking so that this never happened again. ‘cause with you and Applebloom, I’m only half-complete.” He smiled and turned to show the big green half-apple on his flank. “When you woke up, I coulda burst. Never been so happy in all my days. That’s when my cutie mark appeared.” He sat back down.

Applejack didn’t know what to say. In all their time on the farm, nopony had ever talked about that. But she remembered how her big brother had shown her everything he knew. Always there to guide her, and when she started to take the reigns he’d gone with her no matter how mane-brained she’d behave. She rested her head against his chest and he bent his head low to nuzzle her.

“Good story.” They both jumped.

Clutterstep’s left eye was open. He offered them the gift of a weak smile. “I’m jealous.”

“Clutter!” They both exclaimed. The blue earth pony tried to sit up, then groaned and clasped his head. “Just lay still. You got a nasty hit.”

“Story of my life.”

Applejack turned to her brother. “Let Ms. Jubilee know, would ya?”

“Eeyup!” Big Mac smiled at them both and slipped out of the room.

“Can I get you anything?” said Applejack.

“Thirsty.” said Clutterstep.

“Sure. Right away.” Applejack dashed to the kitchen and fetched a glass of water. She held it to Clutterstep’s lips and set it down when he’d finished.

“Hey,” said Clutterstep, “did I say anything stupid while I was out?”

Applejack smiled and shook her head. “No. Nothing stupid at all. Do you rememeber what happened?”

Clutterstep winced. “I remember the tree branch falling. Then pain. And I must’ve really gotten addled because I thought I heard singing.” He looked to Applejack. “Are you okay?”

“Thanks to you, Sugarcube.”

Clutterstep smiled stronger than before. “That’s the first nickname I’ve ever had besides Clumsy Clutter. It’s nice.”

“So are you.” said Applejack. “I’m powerful sorry, Clutter. Here you’ve been trying to help, but I was so dang-blasted frustrated that I all I could focus on was the setbacks. I shoulda been more supportive.”

“No, you were right.” Clutterstep sighed. “I’m a screw-up. Always have been.”

Applejack shook her head and offered another sip of water. “That’s so far from the truth it ain’t even on the same planet. You’re a wonderful pony, Clutterstep. And I’ll stomp any griffon, Varmin, or pony who says neigh.”

A knock at the door drew their attention. Ms. Jubilee stood in the hallway with Big Macintosh beside her. “Clutter, oh, thank Celestia you’re okay!”

“Hey boss.” Clutterstep sat up with a little help from Applejack. “Sorry for the scare. Just give me a few and I’ll be set to try again.”

“That won’t be necessary, Clutter. You can rest up here as long as this land is mine, but you’re fired. Applejack, Big Macintosh, I’m so sorry to have wasted your time here. I’ll buy you both tickets straight to Ponyville as soon as the station opens. Please rest up in the meantime.”

“What?” gasped Applejack.

“Ms. Jubilee!” Clutterstep wobbled on the bed. “C’mon, is this because I had an accident? This is nothing! This is a typical Tuesday.”

“It’s Thursday.” said Mr. Jubilee.

“Either way, it happens more often than you know. I mean, come on! This place is your dream.”

Tears threatened to wash Ms. Jubilee’s eyes clear off her head. “No dream is worth a pony’s life! I’m grateful to you all for trying so hard, but I’ve made my decision. Now excuse me while I tend to some things.” She darted past Big Macintosh and into her bedroom. The locking door echoed throughout the ranch.

XXXXXX

“You know what I say, Rawley?” said Harumphy.

“I’m all a twitter to know.” Rawley said between pints. He and his lads had commandeered the whole tavern for the evening. Wasn’t hard, given that most ponies were still shaking in their cellars after word of the Grumble Brothers’ escape. Even the bar owner had gone home with some of Whiskers’ gentle persuasion. Scrap was fetching a fresh round when Rawley had put forth his idea.

“I think you’ve lost your spine.” said Harumphey.

“Spine? Since when have we ever boasted about having spines?”

“I mean, that flying crate got you knocked off your rocker.” Harumphey poked Rawley in the head, earning a fresh sting from his braced neck. “We’ve got a right nice setup in this town. Even the law can’t touch us long as we throw in with Ms. Preda. And now here you go and say we need to back to the homeland!”

Rawley snatched the fresh pint from Scrap. Too much head and in a smaller glass than the whelp had given the others. Whisker, Scamp, and even Twitch were nodding agreement with Harumphey. Dangerous signs, those.

“I tell you true, my lads, there’s a storm brewing. Ms. Preda’s getting too wrapped up in her little hunt. Forgetting caution and courting disaster, that’s her way now. Whatever happens between her and them ponies at the cherry ranch, we’ll be caught in the middle. I ain’t saying it don’t mean sacrifice,” he swirled his pint, “drinks are decent and the garbage dumps are plentiful. But we’re survivalists by lot. We can make do.”

“We’ve made off pretty fine.” said Whiskers. “I happen to like that ponies are more scared of us than the other way.” He downed a drink in one gulp and handed it to Scamp who carried it back behind the bar.

“Tsch-sh-sh-sh!” Twitch gnashed on his glass before Scrap snatched it away.

Rawley wanted to shout at them, but a mild tone avoided detection. “Make no mistake, they’s scared of Ms. Preda.”

“All the more reason to stick with her.” said Harumphy.

“No, all the more reason to bugger out!” Rawley slammed his drink on the table and instantly wished he hadn’t. Now he’d gone and triggered the fight or flight instinct, and none of his lads looked eager for the second option. “Penelope Preda’s gonna dig her own grave and drag us down with her. Or she’ll land in the pit that bloke Clutterstep digs.”

Harumphy chuckled, “Won’t have to worry about that. Word is that blue bugger’s laid up with a busted skull. If’n we’re lucky, he won’t last the night.” The group exchanged grins, and even Rawley felt heartened by the word.

Still.

“Every pony in this town knows what we’ve been up to. How long you think they’s just gonna let it slide? You back one of us into the corner and we fight. How is it any different for them ponies?” His ear twitched at the sound of approaching hoofbeats, and Rawley had a sense that he’d wasted too much time on words.

The red giant from out of town stomped through the stalls and made straight towards Rawley. The lads all braced, but Rawley leaned back and took a slow sip. If the big one wasn’t expecting nothing, Rawley could either make it out the door or get in the first hit before any were the wiser.

Big Red (or was it Mack-It-Nosh?) towered over Rawley, glaring down doom. “Get up.”

“Ain’t in the mood, so you can just sod off.” He made to take another drink.

Big Red slapped the mug out of his paw. It clattered on the floor, spilling quality brew. “Get. Up.”

Rawley made a survivalist decision. Quick as a stink, he dove out of his chair and made for the door. Big Red was a might faster than he looked. His hoof stomped down on Rawley’s tail, mangling it. Squealing, Rawley turned and lunged with paws hooked into claws. The pony pivoted, and Rawley’s last clear view was a pair of soil-grimed hoofs rising to meet his face.

Everything after there was a half-view on account of one of his eyes swelling shut. He was upside down, embedded in the far wall, and hearing the voices of his fore-scavengers saying, “We told you so!”

Whiskers was next. Always proud of his size, that one. He vaulted atop the table (adding yet more drinks to the night’s casualties) and tackled the pony. Big Red rolled with the attack, came upright and drove his front right hoof into Whiskers’ gut. Whiskers grunted and leaned forward, his claws reaching. Big Red laid him out cold with one hoof.

“TSSSCCH-CH-CH!” Twitch was on Big Red’s back, digging in with his paws. Big Red growled, then yelped as Twitch’s jaws found his ear. The burley pony started bucking like one of them smelly rodeos Rawley had seen between picking pockets. Twitch held tight, but one fateful bounce released his grip and sent him hurtling into the ceiling. He rebounded right back on to the pony’s backside. Three upon three times he completed the circuit until Big Red gave him a bounce so strong that Twitch vanished into the rafters’ shadows and never came down.

Harumphy finally acted in the proper way and tried to scurry out the back. Big Red saw it and launched the nearest chair. It shattered on Harumphy’s back side, threw him against the door, and Rawley suspected his unconsciousness wasn’t from trauma but fainting.

Scrap and Scamp were both armed. Knives from the back kitchen, the little fools. They lunged, but the pony flowed past them and scooped them up in his forelegs so swiftly that they lost their grip and the knives clattered out of reach. He carried the tykes to a chair, sat down with them across his lap, and gave each a good twenty-round spanking.

“Ow!” cried Scamp.

“You tosser!” That earned Scrap an extra five.

Big Red growled. “Watch.”

Slap!

“Your.”

Slap!

“Language!”

The giant pony pushed them off his lap and towards the door. “Now get! And think about what you wanna do with your lives!” The two of them hobbled out without giving Rawley as second glance. Good lads. Never, ever look back!

The whole thing unfolded in less than five minutes. Rawley’s crew lay either unconscious or vanished. Big Red looked around the spilled pints and broken chairs. He picked up the discarded knives, set them on the counter, and headed for the exit. He caught Rawley’s eye on the way out. The look promised that he’d be back to do this again. And again. As many times as needed.

Rawley took the hint and pried himself free of the wall. Picking splinters out of his coat, he went to Whiskers and Harumphy and checked their pockets. A few bits and that was that. The end of an era. Rawley didn’t deny the hint of regret. He thought Harumphy might at least have a few more bits to his name.

Still, that was that.

“Twitch?” he called to the rafters. No answer. “If you can hear me, my advice is to still get while the getting’s decent.”

Ever a leader by example, Rawley turned and fled into the star-woven night.

Chapter 8: Clutter Takes the Fall

“My arrest!” Ms. Jubilee reared back. “What are y’all blathering about?”

Lucky Roll’s voice became steel-hard. “Early this morning, somepony slipped into the jail and KO’ed me and one of my deputies. By the time the other boys found us, them Grumble Brothers were long gone.”

“You’re serious?” Clutterstep drew up behind Ms. Jubilee. “You let them get away again? Crud, I thought I was bad at my job!”

“Clutter, shush!” Ms. Jubilee squared up the Sheriff like a bullfighter. “I don’t see how that comes back to me.”

The Sheriff pulled out a yellow scarf embroidered with cherries. “Them intruders bound me up and used this as a gag. I remember you wearing this to the last town festival.”

Ms. Jubilee’s eyes widened, “But... but that scarf was stolen. By Ms. Preda’s Varmin!”

“Right, about them.” The Sheriff looked over at the wagon. Several figures limped out of the bed. Three of the Varmin, all bandaged up. No sign of their boss or the little ones. They looked like they’d gone three rounds with a dragon. The biggest one had his belly bandaged up a support harness looped round his head and snout. The lanky one canted midsection and winced every time he took a step. The smallest one—that creepy twitchy-looking Varmin—was wrapped snout to tail and made muffled hisses when he looked at Big Macintosh.

Every pony was silent, except for Clutterstep. He burst out laughing, and before long he was rolling on the ground. “It hurts to laugh! Haha-ow! But I’m doing it anyway!”

Ms. Jubilee stamped her hoof. “Cutterstep! This is serious.”

“I know, (*gasp*) I’m terrible. But, I mean, look at them!” He laughed some more. “I just became a believer in karma.”

Sheriff Lucky Roll cleared his throat. “These boys claim your newest hire jumped them last night. Gave them a good whooping.” The Varmin all muttered and glared at Big Macintosh. “I’ll be taking him in as well, for assault.”

Sheriff Lucky Roll eyed Big Macintosh up and down. “Given his sorry state, I’m guessing it wasn’t so one-sided as they say, but that don’t change the fact he started the fight.”

“Hang on a sec.” Applejack grabbed her brother by the yolk and dragged him away from the group. “Tell me you did not go and rough up them hoodwinkers!”

Big Macintosh took an interest in his hooves.

“Big Mac!”

He looked up, real defensive. “I was mad.”

“Mad? Mad? Brother, you haven’t seen mad until now! You’ve gone and given them an excuse to throw you in the slammer!” She and her brother worked best together. It was how they handled the whole of Sweet Apple Acres without having to hire extra hooves. Without him, Applejack wasn’t so sure they could finish the eastern fields in time. And what about getting back home for Applebuck Season? “Of all the times for you to go and do something thick-headed!”

“I’m sorry.” said Big Macintosh.

“That’s enough, the both of you.” The Sheriff called them back. “Now Mr. Macintosh’s situation is pretty cut-and-dry, but Ms. Jubilee’ll have to come in and tell us her side of the story.”

“But I don’t have the time! Sheriff, please, I can’t lose Big Macintosh. And you know me. You know I’d never do something like that!”

If ever there was a pony who wished he could be anywhere else, even the moon, Applejack could see it was the Sheriff. “I’m sorry, Cherry. I’m more sorry than you can know.”

“Not sorry enough to do anything!” said Ms. Jubilee. She pointed at the evidence. “I wore that scarf the night I danced with you, and now you’re gonna treat me like a criminal ‘cause Penelope Preda said so?”

“I... I’m...”

He got cut off by another round of laughter from Clutterstep. “Boy oh boy, Rolls, you really are bad at this.”

Lucky Roll found a new target, “You, shut up!”

Clutterstep was grinning like the prize pig at a fair. “I mean, you’re zero outta two in the accusations department. I’m the one who clocked you out, and then I beat up these yahoos for good measure.” He waved a hoof at the stunned Varmin.

“You what?” said everypony at once.

Clutterstep said while grinning, “I’d missed out on the bounty for the Grumbles, twice. Figured I’d give it another go. I snatched Ms. Jubilee’s scarf (which she just assumed was taken by the Varmin) and some rope. The rest, as they say, is statutory assault. Ms. Jubilee had no idea I’d done it. Fact is, she fired me just this morning.” He grinned at the wounded Varmin. “And these three were less of a challenge. Managed to clean house and all I got was this.” He waved a hoof at his bandaged noggin. “Was a real highlight after the Grumbles got away from me.”

Lucky Roll suddenly looked like he’d woken up in a quicksand pit. “But... them boys said-”

“Them boys wouldn’t want to admit a pony like me could wipe the floor with them when there’s a much bigger and stronger pony standing right there.” He pointed to Big Macintosh, who was gaping big enough to catch flies.

“Not true!” said the lanky one with the hunched back. “It was the red one! Just look at the bruises he left me!” He made to turn and show his backside.

“Now, now. Harumphey, right?” Clutterstep trotted over and gave him a friendly backslap. The Varmin went ridged and his eyes glazed over. “It was a good tussle. No need to be ashamed. I’m sure your buds would say the same.” He glanced at the other two, who couldn’t say a thing through their bandages.

“Clutter, stop it!” Ms. Jubilee. “Anypony can see-”

“Ah-ah!” Clutterstep raised a hoof for quiet. “Let’s not make this worse, Ms. Jubilee. I’m sorry you didn’t know, but nothing you can say will change this.”

Ms. Jubilee looked like she was trying to eat the air, then shuddered and drew in on herself. She simply nodded, tears brimming.

Lucky Roll looked around like the ponies and Varmin had turned into water buffalo. “Wait, what about all them scuffs and teeth marks on Mr. Macintosh?”

“Oh, that.” Clutterstep waved a hoof. “The less said about Ms. Jubilee’s affections, the better.”

“W-What?” Was hard to tell who was turning redder: Ms. Jubilee, Sheriff Lucky Roll, or Big Macintosh. Applejack covered her eyes with her hat, not sure if she should laugh, shout, or cry.

“Erm... I suppose—”

“Suppose nothing.” said Clutterstep. “I just confessed. Take me in. That’s what a real sheriff would do, right?”

That struck a nerve. All the uncertainty bled out and Lucky Roll waved at two of his deputies. “Take him away. We’ll sort all this out back in town!”

“Clutter!” Applejack ran up to him, but Ms. Jubilee got to her first. Wrapped her hooves around Applejack’s withers and held her tight. “I know you can’t lie.” she whispered in Applejack’s ear, “But I’m begging you to say nothing.”

Applejack wanted to shove her away. To go to her friend and slap him upside his busted head until he could think straight. Clutterstep watched her and gave a small shake of his head. All her words dried up.

They fitted Clutterstep with a pair of leg shackles and a collar. Fixed him to the wagon and loaded the injured Varmin. Clutterstep met her gaze and winked. Applejack could only watch as they carted him down the road and into town.

“What do we do now?” she wondered aloud.

“We use the time he’s given us.” said Ms. Jubilee. She wiped away her tears, though her cheeks were still burning. “We harvest as much as we can by nightfall, then we go see him and call him a dang fool.”

Applejack did just that. She attacked the orchards like a pony possessed and offered her brother lectures in between trees. Talk of reigning in his temper and not charging off to start brawls without her. She couldn’t take him anywhere! Hours of taking out her frustrations on bark and soil, and still she was riled as a rattlesnake when the sun began to set. They’d made good progress, but something was missing. It all felt like a defeat.

She and Big Macintosh agreed to go into town and see Clutterstep while Ms. Jubilee took stock of the harvest and prepared everything for the final day. She also muttered something dark about throttling him for “slandering her reputation.”

The sheriff’s office was a small affair. Ponies didn’t have much use for cells, thank Celestia. Fresh mortar and stone in the wall marked where the Grumble Brothers had made their escape. Pretty amazing the Dodge ponies had patched it up so fast. Then again, they did live with Clutterstep.

Applejack winced as several notes violated the air. That, or someone was torturing a magical hacksaw.

“Dang it, Clutterstep!” The Sheriff’s voice called over the noise. “One more note, and I’ll charge you with assaulting an officer!”

“Aw, c’mon. I’m getting better.”

Applejack and Big Macintosh entered the jail after knocking. Clutterstep lay on a cot in a cell cattycorner to the Sheriff’s desk. It was the last one after the Grumbles had twisted the bars into freaky art. Clutterstep had a harmonica in his hooves. Applejack was sure those notes hadn’t been harmonica notes. Matter of fact, she wasn’t sure any instrument could be forced to make those sounds.

Clutterstep glanced up and grinned. Applejack and Big Macintosh met him at the bars. “Oh Clutter, why did you do that?”

Clutterstep shrugged and glanced to the Sheriff. “Hey, Rolls, how’s about some privacy?”

“Nothing doing.” The Sheriff leaned back in his chair and rested his hind hooves on the desk next to a stack of cards and a pair of dice. The dice fell over and rolled a seven.

“Fine,” Clutterstep went back to his cot, “then you can all enjoy a rendition of my latest piece: Got the Blues ‘Cause the Sheriff Done Locked Me in a Cell.”

“All right! All right!” the sheriff got up and went towards a backroom door. “Y’all got five minutes, then visiting hours are over.” He slammed the door behind him.

“He sure doesn’t like you.” said Applejack.

“Eeyup.”

Clutterstep set the harmonica back on his cot. “He blames me for being sheriff.”

“How’s that now?”

“Well, I was auditioning as a piano player this one night at the saloon.”

Applejack frowned, “Can you play any better on a piano than a harmonica?”

“Everypony’s a critic.” muttered Clutterstep. “Well, I actually made out pretty well when ponies paid me to stop playing. But old Lucky Roll claims that I distracted him in a game against the head Varmin. The one who wasn’t with the group. Rawley, I think. Anyway, he wound up in debt to Rawley. Then the sheriff at the time went after the Grumbles and never came back. Preda set Lucky Roll up to pay off his debts and he’s been in her pocket ever since. It’s too bad. He was pretty cool before then.”

Applejack nodded, “Just like Ms. Jubilee said.”

“Oh, yeah.” Clutterstep scratched at his mane. “Um, she’s not mad at me for that crack about her affections, is she?”

Applejack shook her head, “Oh, Clutter. That wasn’t the worst thing you said today.”

Clutterstep trotted in a small circle in his cell. “You mean my confession? Best I could do. The way I see it, you’ll do more good out there and I get three square a day and roof over my head. Besides, I think I found my second calling.”

Applejack had that sense of talking to Pinkie Pie all over again. “Serving time?”

“Enhanced interrogations!” He held up his harmonica. “Ten minutes on this baby and several ponies came off the street and confessed to tax fraud.”

Applejack banged her head against the bars. “How can you make jokes at a time like this?”

Clutterstep smiled and pressed his forehead against hers between the bars. The bandage tickled against her coat. “Because it’s laugh or cry, and I’ve shed enough tears. If this is the only way I can help save Cherry Hill Ranch, then I don’t care what happens next. Besides, there literally isn’t a prison built that could hold me.”

“But it ain’t right. It ain’t fair for you to do time for somepony’s mistakes.” She glared over at Big Macintosh, who made a good show of being lectured.

“I’m sorry.” said the big lug.

“I’m sorry too.” said Clutterstep. “Sorry I didn’t get to watch. You must have clobbered those guys!”

“Eeyup!”

“I swear,” Applejack growled. “I don’t which of you’s worse anymore.”

The backroom door swung open and the sheriff emerged. “Time’s up.”

Applejack composed herself and said to Clutterstep, “This ain’t the end. I can get in touch with Princess Celestia. She can—”

“Don’t you dare!” Clutterstep snapped so fierce that Applejack reared back. “If you bring her into this, I’ll never forgive you!” And he meant it. Was plain as Celestia’s day. Applejack wondered back to the pony he’d quoted about the law. He had been looking towards Canterlot.

Still, she couldn’t just leave it. “Is there anypony I can get in touch? Family? Friends?”

“No.” Clutterstep gave that sad smile again. “I’ve been on my own for a while now. But I’m glad I got to meet you two.” He took hold of her hoof. “Thank you, Applejack. Big Macintosh.”

“That’s enough.” Sheriff Lucky Roll strode up and started hustling them out the front. Clutterstep offered the Apples a sincere smile and wink before the door closed in their faces. Applejack stood fuming for a moment.

“Ah, AJ?”

“I’m still mighty sore at you.” said Applejack. “I need a minute to think. You head on back without me.” Big Macintosh grimaced and set off down the deserted streets. Folks seemed scared of the dark these days. In a town like this, Applejack couldn’t blame them. Not for that, at least. Everything else was fair game.

She paced the town square several times, trying to make sense of it all. Clutterstep had no one. That was a terrifying idea for earth ponies. Applejack tried to picture herself wandering Equestria on her lonesome and doubted she could’ve survived.

It’d be a stretch, but she’d hire him a lawyer. A great lawyer. Best in Equestria. One that could shout “Objection!” at the top of his lungs and prove that even Clutterstep was lying about what happened that night. Probably have to get somepony out of Canterlot to do the job. No Celestia, that was the only rule. Twilight would have some ideas. Applejack would send a telegram to Ponyville in the morning so they could get the ball rolling before she returned home.

Just having a plan gave her some comfort. She set off towards the ranch; tired from a night of poor sleep, cherry harvesting, and about a hundred emotions in ten minutes. Gonna make my mane as silver as Granny Smith’s at this rate. She chuckled.

“Hmmrph!” A muffled shout from the alley drew Applejack’s head. Big Macintosh dangled off the ground, his front legs bound to his chest and a cloth wrapped over his mouth. He thrashed and kicked, but the green hand holding him by the scruff of the neck wouldn’t let go. He looked at Applejack, shaking his head and shouting something through the cloth. Sounded like he was telling her to run.

Then the hand yanked him around a corner and out of sight.

“Big brother!” Applejack dashed in after him. She skidded round the corner.

And ran smack into a waiting bag. Her last sight was a giant shadow blotting out Princess Luna’s moon and thick hands drawing the bag over her. Scooped her up from snout to tail.

Applejack cried out and kicked at the burlap, but it was too thick to tear. Her mind reeled as the bag swung skywards and slung back down to thump out a muscular back. Applejack cried out, and the air around her heated and pressed on her lungs. Bobbing up and down as the Grumble Brothers carried them away, all Applejack could think of was Sweet Apple Acres getting further and further away with each lurch.

Chapter 9: Under-Mined

“Wotcher, Mr. Sheriff.” Rawley leaned hard against the stockroom crates, hoping that taking the weight off his knees would hide any jittering. Lucky Roll’s eye bulged when he found Rawley. Found him. Standing there, bold as brass. Went completely against the art of the Sneak, it did. Why, Rawley’s da and gramps would both be turning cartwheels if Rawley had paid for a burial.

“What are you doing here?” said Lucky Roll after he slammed the door shut. “And what happened to your face.” Outside, the pony who had knocked several teeth loose and given him a shiner was talking with the pony who’d landed a crate on his head. Intuition screamed he should bolt right on outta there.

But intuition didn’t earn any scratch, and he needed that to get outta town.

“I’m calling in your debt.” said Rawley.

“Debt?” Lucky Roll’s face darkened. “I’ve been paying my debt for months now, and I’m no closer to being done than when I started!”

“Oh no, gov. Not your debt over that card game. Which, by the by, I cheated.”

He’d been hoping for a little shock, but Lucky Roll simply snorted. “Knew you did.”

“Oh? Then why not call fowl?”

“I thought I could outplay your cheating. Real arrogant, real stupid. Figured I’d pay my dues and be done. ‘Course, that ain’t happened.”

Rawley shrugged and perched on top a crate. Better to spring away if things went south. “Ah, well, water under the bridge. Anyway, I’m talking ‘bout more recent generosities on my part. Like keeping the Grumble Brothers from squishing you like a grape.”

Lucky Roll’s nostrils flared and his ears flattened. “So that was you too.”

“Yep. Did you like the bit with Cherry Jubilee’s scarf? Ms. Preda’s orders, that was. Plant the evidence and let her send her errand boy. Pretty wicked, that move.”

Lucky Roll nearly stomped a hoof before hissing. “What do you want?”

“I want out of this game, gov. Stakes are getting to high. Bets are too steep. You know the score. Imagine you’d want out too. Ain’t nothing for you here, now. Not after what went down with the little missus, eh?” Rawley leaned in, making sure the light caught his grin. “Now, I got me a plan, you see. Plan to take care of all our little problems and get us on outta Dodge. You just gotta roll the dice with me one last time.”

“Hmph.” said Lucky Roll. “I’d pay your ticket just to have you gone.”

“Aye, but what about after? Varmin’s gotta have some bits to make his way in this great big world. And I figure you could use a little scratch too, eh? Start building some other debts.”

The sheriff turned towards the door. “Wait here.” He slipped out and started barking orders at the bumpkins.

Asking a scavenger to stay in one place. Cor! He was making a right mess of himself tonight. Not long, though. Just a little more.

He tail lashed while Lucky Roll shooed off the two ponies. Still stung from being crushed by that red blighter, but he’d gotten off a good deal better than Harumphey and the others. Poor blokes are overreaching themselves. More reason for me to book it. After a few moments, Rawley crept up the door and pressed an ear. Sounds of a scuffle outside and Clutterstep’s shout of, “No! Mine!”

Rawley retreated from the door just in time avoid getting clocked in the snout. Lucky Roll stomped in with a harmonica clasped between his teeth. He spat it into a drawer, slammed it tight, then turned the lock. “Now then. What was it you was saying?”

“A game of chance, me lad. But here’s the twist: we win either way. It requires that you act fast, and deputize your latest guest.”

Lucky Roll glanced back towards the office door. “You mean Clutterstep?”

“Unless you went and arrested another accident-prone pony in the last five minutes.”

“Deputize, him? I reckon Big Macintosh gave you a harsher whoopin’ than I knew. Clutter’d demolish half the town just trying to give a parking ticket!”

“Exactly, me boy! But we ain’t gonna have him giving out slips of paper.” Rawley threw a paw around Lucky Roll’s blonde mane and leaned in close. “Turns out them Grumble Brothers ain’t in their hiding den at the moment. They’s off snatching up Big Red and his little sister, that firecracker with the Stetson.”

“The Apple ponies?” Lucky Roll backed away. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m telling you now, gov. Try to keep up. You make ol’ Clutterstep in there an offer. Full pardon if he’ll have a go at capturing the Brothers. He goes in, trips around a bit, odds are he’ll bring the whole mine down. Then them Grumbles got nowhere to hide from the sun. Nowhere they can get to before dawn, least of ways. You and your ponies can head on out, rescue the Apples, and we claim the bounty on them Grumble Brothers. Then we split the bounty, sixty-forty.”

“And what about Clutterstep?” said Lucky Roll. Pony was glaring something fierce. Rawley couldn’t understand why.

“That pony? He’s as immortal as that mare up in Canterlot, he is. Probably be right as rain in a week or three. Besides, worst case is that he don’t make it. How’s that a bad thing?” Lucky Roll’s face hardened, and Rawley’s intuition said this wasn’t going the way he planned. “Here now, has that badge gone and poked your brain? You ain’t a sheriff, Lucky. Never were. This is just a snatch, it is.”

“You’re right.” Lucky Roll went to a safe in the corner and twisted at the dial. Rawley tried to see over his shoulder, but the pony made sure to block the sight. Shame he didn’t know Rawley could hear combinations. Mighty sporting of ya, Lucky. He pulled out a bag of bits and tossed them at Rawley. “I’m not much of a sheriff, but I’m mighty shamed that you think we’re alike. That money’ll pay for a train ticket. I want you outta this town by dawn.”

“What?” Rawley hefted the bag of bits. Wasn’t enough to last more than a day. “Are you off your rocker? Oy!” Lucky Roll opened the door and went to the desk where he kept the cell keys. “Clutterstep, I’m releasing you into Ms. Jubilee’s custody. I want you to keep and eye on her tonight.”

Rawley didn’t have a choice. He bolted into the open and slammed the drawer shut before Lucky Roll could grab the keys. “Oy, steady there!”

“What’s he doing here?” Clutterstep pointed at Rawley, who ignored the blue pony.

“You’re throwing away a right precious chance! You could be a hero.”

Lucky Roll shoved him away and opened the drawer again. Quick as the Sneak demanded, Rawley snatched up the keys and leaped atop the desk. He kept the keys in one paw and the sack of bits in the other. Lucky Roll darted around a blocked the doorway. “I ain’t a hero. Or a sheriff. But I ain’t a swindler like you neither. Now give me them keys so I can go after them Apples.”

“Apples?” Clutterstep pressed his front hooves against the bars. “Lucky Roll, what are you talking about?”

The sheriff glanced at his prisoner. “The Grumble Brothers may have nabbed Ms. Applejack and Mr. Macintosh.”

“What?” Clutterstep rattled against the bars. To Rawley’s surprise, they held. “Let me outta here!”

Lucky Roll snorted, “I will, soon as that one hands over the keys. But then you go straight to Cherry Hill Ranch.”

“Oh, forget that! You go mind Ms. Jubilee and I’ll go get my friends.” He gave the bars another shove and his eyes boggled when they held. “Just give me the sheriff’s badge and we’ll call it legal!”

“There, see?” said Rawley. “Even this pony thinks—”

Both ponies shouted, “Shut up!” They blinked at each other. Tossers.

Lucky Roll kept his eyes darting between Clutterstep and Rawley. “I’ve done enough to Ms. Jubilee. I ain’t telling her I sent one of her friends off on a suicide mission.”

“Everything I do is a suicide mission! Lucky Roll, I’ll go crazy if I’m just sitting at the ranch. I might as well be stuck in this cell.” He slammed his hooves against the bars. “Which apparently I am! What the crud?”

Lucky Roll said, “Look, I know you’re worried about your two friends-”

“My only friends!” cried Clutterstep. “I can’t lose them, all right? I just... I can’t.” He darted away from the bars and raised his hind legs against the far wall. Gave it a solid kick that made the floor tremble.

Rawley and Lucky Roll paused, breath held. The mortar around the brick cracked at the floor. The crack worked its way up, arched over Clutterstep, and touched the ground again. One push, and the bricks scatted before him. “Finally!” Clutterstep was through the archway and down the street, quick as you pleae.

“That git.” said Rawley. Well, end’s the same either way. Now he just had to make Lucky Roll see the light.

The office shook. The combined abuse of the Grumble Brothers and Clutterstep had finally taken their tol. Lucky Roll and Rawley traded a look before breaking for the doors. Lucky Roll went for the front. Rawley went back towards the safe.

Dust shook lose from the rafters and wooden supports cracked. Rawley’s shaking paws turned the dial. 8-17-64. The safe clacked open. Many thanks, Lucky. No partnership, though. Shame. Well, he’d just have to buy a new crew. Rawley flung the safe open.

And boggled at the second safe with two dials and a note taped on the cover.

Dear Rawley,

I know you’ll make a play for this some day. It’s part of your nature. I just want you to know that it’s one thing to take my money, but I’d never let you steal from my neigh-bors.

- Lucky Roll

“Tosser!” shouted Rawley as the ceiling collapsed.

XXXXXX

Applejack thought she’d go sick or crazy or both from all the bouncing. The burlap sack stifled her with heat and the smell of her own sweat. She’d given up shouting and kicking. If anypony cared to hear, they hadn’t done a thing. She still gave a thrash, hoping to bean one of the Grumble Brothers’ heads. Was a no-brainer it was them. Given the length of bouncing on their way (sweet Celestia, she was gonna hurl), they were as like taking the Apples to their hideout in the Coltez Mines.

She forced herself to think through the sickness and the fear. Nopony who’s gone into those mines has ever come out. She thought of home and shuddered.

Just when she was sure to go loopy, the bag swung over and dumped her onto cold stone. The room was dark with a few candle pinpoints. Water dripped further down a tunnel and echoed all the way up. Applejack took in a lungful and tasted sulfur.

A meaty hand grabbed her and flung her up against a support beam. Before she could catch her breath, several lengths of chain wrapped around her, pinning her. “ Lemme go, you thugs! Big Macintosh?”

“Mmph!” He was on the other side of the beam, bound by the same chain and still gagged. Applejack forced the last of the burlap sack’s air out of lungs and looked for the Grumble Brothers.

They were bound up in a circular chamber that branched off into mine shafts. Old and rusted pickaxes and shovels lined one curve near a thick table and two worn-looking chairs. The town’s wealth lined the opposite wall. Crates of fabrics and farm tools. Sacks of potatoes and fence posts. Here an there shone loose bits. Whole livihoods gathering dust in the dark. Flick and Pick Grumble stood at a distance, looking bored. The candlelight highlighted every sharp feature, including the tusks. Applejack scowled at them. “If’n you don’t let us go by the count of three, I’m gonna tan both your hides and make a quilt outta them!”

“Oh, such bravado.” A delicate voice sounded from the back of the chamber. Penelope Preda dusted off the rotting table with one wingbeat and held up a kerchief to block the dust. “I do believe you’re properly suited for these conditions, my dear.” She prowled around the Apples. “I do hope these gentletrolls weren’t too harsh with you. I’d be ever so upset to have you both bruised.” Her tail reaching out and caressed Big Macintosh’s chin

Applejack struggled against the chains. The same links that had bound the Grumbles kept her from tackling the dainty griffin off her talons. “You keep your filthy mitts off my brother!”

“Filthy? Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it. I shall have to bath at least five times tonight just to get the smell of this place off me.” Preda sidestepped a smudge of something dark on the floor. The Grumble brothers shrugged to one another and sat down at a table. Flick pulled a deck of cards out from under a buffalo skull.

Preda continued, “Though I suppose you wouldn’t know anything cleanliness, would you? Tell me, when was the last time you luxuriated in a bubble bath? I’m guessing it wasn’t this week.” She giggled and padded around Applejack. “Well, I suppose it won’t matter soon. Terrible tragedy, your disappearance. Ms. Jubilee will be ever so upset.”

“If you think ponynapping us is gonna win you that ranch, you got another thing coming, hussie!”

Preda’s smirk faltered, and the lining of her slippers stretched. Applejack thought she saw the point of a claw trying to force its way out. “Mind your tone, pony.” Her growl filled the mine shaft. “In better times, you would have been a light snack for one of my kind. But then that nag from Canterlot defeated us and took away our pride. Some of my kind have accepted this and--the four winds forbid--actually think of ponies as friends. But I hold true to the old ways.”

She grasped Applejack around the jaw with her talon. The points dug into Applejack’s coat. “Truth is, I don’t give two feathers about what happens to that land or that pathetic town. I just like to see the ponies struggle, thinking they can get out from under my claw. Nothing’s so entertaining as struggling prey.” Her tongue traced the edge of her beak. “But lately, I’ve been thinking about going back to the old ways in the truest sense.”

Applejack pulled against the chains and worked up a gobbet of spit. “Just try it.”

Preda released her grip with a push. “Oh, not until I’ve seen this through to the end. I want to see the look in your eyes when you hear that Cherry Jubilee’s out on the street and that buffoon Clutterstep’s the most wanted pony in the territory.”

“Clutter?” said Applejack. “What did you do to him?”

Penelope Preda cackled, “That’s just it! I didn’t do a blessed thing. Dang fool broke himself out of jail and tore it down in the process. Come first light, every sheriff and deputy on the frontier will be hunting him. It’s so delicious!”

She consulted a watch from a purse about her neck. “Oh dear, where does the time go? Not much longer until sunrise and there’s ever so much to do. My business partners will keep you entertained until I get back.” The Grumble Brothers both grunted, cards in hand. Pick looked to be winning, given the pile of bones stacked in front. “And don’t you worry, little pony. I’ll gladly extend a line of credit to help your family through these hard times. What were their names? Oh yes, Applebloom and Granny Smith.”

All the fire washed out of Applejack. “You stay away from my family! You—hmph!” Preda pressed a strip of cloth between Applejack’s teeth and tied the knot behind her head. Grinning like a skeleton, she danced out of reach from Applejack’s kicks.

“I’m so looking forward to branching out into Ponyville. Thank you so much for bringing it to my attention.” She patted Applejack on the forehead and stood to go. “Until brunch.” She turned and gave the Grumbles a glance before padding down the caves.

Applejack pressed against the chains, but they had her tight as a barrel. I ain’t gonna cry. She thought, despite the welling tears. Her family. Her friends. It couldn’t end like this. It just couldn’t.

Big Macintosh’s tail brushed against hers. It was the only contact they could manage. Applejack wished more than anything her brother could be safe, but a part of her was glad to not be alone now. Whatever happened, the Apple siblings would face it together.

But who would be with Applebloom? First her parents, then her big brother and sister. Would she be okay when Granny Smith moved on? Had Applejack taught her enough about minding the farm and the harvest? Her friends would be there for her. She’d earn her cutie mark, make her way in the world. Maybe find a good stallion and raise a family of her own.

Applejack wanted to see it. She wanted to see her home and her sister and be a part of that life. It just couldn’t end like this.

She couldn’t help it. She started to weep.

Through the tears, she spotted a patch of blue in the dark.

Clutterstep poked his head out from a side passage and held a hoof up to his lips. Oh, you dang fool! She didn’t need Madame Pinkie’s crystal ball to know how this would end. She shook her head. Tried to wave him away.

Clutterstep crept down the passage, keeping close to the candlelight’s shadows. He had a rock in one hoof.

Don’t you dare! Applejack tried to project. She couldn’t tell if Big Macintosh saw it too, but the rapid flick of his tail was a good hint. Go back!

Clutterstep watched the Grumbles, who were absorbed in their game. Hefting the rock, he lobbed it down a side passage. It struck a powerful racket in the mineshaft. Then it ricocheted off the floor, bounced off the shaft wall, and bounced back to Clutterstep’s hooves like a loyal puppy.

He hadn’t even thrown it that hard.

Clutterstep looked down at it as if to say Why you gotta be like that? What did I do to you? He then looked up at the looming forms of the Grumble Brothers.

“Aw crud.” said Clutterstep. They’d taken up a pickaxe and shovel. Clutterstep grinned and started backing away. “Well, you two are looking fit. I guess abducting my friends is good for exercise. Leaves a bit of a moral void, though.” Flick lashed out with the pickaxe and embedded it where Clutterstep had been standing. The blue pony’s hooves fought for first place as he backpedaled. He then ducked a swing from Pick. “Oh, Mr. Pick! Maybe you should trade weapons with your brother? Get some symmetry going. Pick armed with a pickaxe, right?” Clutterstep backed into a curve while Flick advanced. Pick circled wide and blocked the passage.

The Grumbles tossed their weapons to one another, caught the pickaxe and shovel midair. Clutterstep’s voice went deadpan. “The one pair of beings that actually listen to my suggestions, and they’re trying to kill me. Typical.” He cleared his throat. “Okay, you know what? This is just stupid! We all know how this is going to end, and it’s just going to messy and unpleasant and drawn out. So can we at least be efficient about this?”

Flick and Pick hesitated. Applejack imagined nopony had tried that line before.

Clutterstep continued, “Tell you what, I’ll tangle with the stronger of you two. That way, we can finish this quickly.”

The brothers stared at one another. Applejack watched, breath held. The Grumbles’ stare intensified. “Come on.” Clutterstep beamed. “Which one of you is stronger? Let’s hear it.”

The Grumbles drifted closer to one another, never shifting their gaze.

“I hate to see siblings fight, but if you gotta settle this, I’ll wait.” Clutterstep shimmied along the shaft wall.

The Grumbles were practically nose to nose, weapons held ready.

Pick made the first move. “Well, I suppose it’s up to you, old chap.”

Flick waved his hand, all dismissive. “Nonsense, my good fellow! Have at him.”

Seriously? thought Applejack. Clutterstep’s slack jaw and bugged eyes said he was thinking the same.

“Oh, come now brother. Remember that time you lifted that boulder and tossed it upon the train tracks. I daresay the entire world felt the impact.”

“Pshaw, dear brother! What about the time you toppled that building with one swing?”

Pick started blushing. “Why, ‘twas only a small shack. What about that beast you brought low with only a hearty-sized boulder?”

“That manticore?” said Flick. “Why, that was less than a pup. Hardly the stuff of legend.”

The back-and-forth kept going while Clutterstep crept past and drew up to Applejack and Big Macintosh. He muttered, “Everyone gets a fun accent except me. How is that fair?” He started fiddling with the lock.

Applejack’s heart hammered. He’d never be able to pick the lock before the Grumbles settled their argument. They were already recounting feats from childhood.

“What about that ruffian you beat up in the third grade?”

“Oh, I simply had at him because you were too polite. I imagine you would have laid him out with one pinkie.”

Clutterstep pulled at the lock, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Hmph!” Applejack shook her head. Taking the hint, Clutterstep yanked the gag away. “Get outta here, Clutter! You can’t pick that.”

“I don’t have to pick it.” Clutterstep struck the padlock with his hooves. “I just have to break it. And if there’s one thing I can do, it’s break stuff.”

Flick said, “What’s say we have the pony decide?”

“Capital idea, old sport!”

Clutterstep struck the lock with all his might. The lock held, but a chain link snapped and the binding grip on Applejack slackened. “That’ll work.” She slipped free, giving Big Macintosh enough room to do the same.

“Oh, bother!” Flick charged, swinging the shovel at Clutterstep’s head. Big Macintosh lunged and knocked Clutterstep out of the way. The weapon struck against the support beam, shattering both the shovel shaft and the wooden support. The ceiling trembled.

“With one hit!” said Pick. “You see, brother? Your strength is truly amazing.”

Applejack jumped out of the path of falling rock. Flick battered another away. “You’re too kind, dear brother of mine. But now may I suggest we run for our lives?”

Having no idea where to go, the ponies followed the Grumble Brothers. Flick and Pick dashed up the passage, battering falling stones out of their way. The Apples and Clutterstep followed close on their heels, dodging the debris they shoved aside. Applejack and Big Macintosh took the lead with Clutterstep tripping over stones behind them.

Applejack ducked under a rock big as her head. “How much further?”

“I dunno!” Clutterstep tried to vault a falling rock, failed, and came up from a role without losing a step. “I just followed Ms. Feather Duster down here. Lucky for me she likes to gloat.”

“Eeyup!”

The ceiling behind them gave way, burying all of the stolen goods from Dodge Junction. Applejack coughed on the gathering dust and the thickening stink of sulfur. Her lungs burned and her vision watered, but she kept focused on the retreating trolls and remembered that she was running for home. I’ll see you again, Applebloom! A support arch gave out and nearly clocked her in the head. A shove from Big Macintosh got her under in time. She looked back and took some relief from her brother’s smile.

“Terribly sorry about this.” Pick had stopped ahead and had his arm on another support beam. “But Ms. Preda was quite specific. Nopony gets out alive.”

He made to pull it.

“No!” Applejack spun in front of a falling rock. Rearing back with her legs, she gave it the perfect buck. The rock shot forward, nailing Pick between the eyes. The troll toppled back into his brother’s arms. “Pick! Speak to me!”

Big Macintosh charged ahead. He launched himself at Pick, bounded off the troll’s round belly, and drove his hooves into Flick’s face. The impact rang louder than the cave in, and Applejack winced. The trolls landed in a tumble, and Big Macintosh bounded away without missing a step

“C’mon, Clutter!” Applejack could see the first hint of stars up beyond.

“I’m-Gah!” Pick had Clutterstep’s hind leg in his grip. For all his thrashing and kicking, Clutterstep couldn’t break free. The mine continued to toppled from the bottom up. The ceiling between them cracked and shook loose. Rocks fell into a barrier between them. Clutterstep looked from the tangled Brothers to Applejack. “Go!” The ceiling gave way. The last Applejack saw of him was that smile.

“NO!” Applejack tried to throw herself against the rock pile, but Big Macintosh caught her. She struggled against her brother’s grip like a foal. “Let me go! We gotta help him.”

“We can’t.” said Big Macintosh. He scooped Applejack up the way he used to when she was a filly and carried her on his back. They were off at a run, still outracing the dust cloud. Applejack didn’t have the gumption to fight her way off her brother’s back. She just held in tears and wished to be out of those awful tunnels.

Chapter 10: The Town Harvest

Princess Luna’s moon had set and Celestia’s sun was on the rise. Big Macintosh ran until they were a good twenty yards away from the mine entrance that belched dust and smoke like a dragon. He stopped and gently eased Applejack off. She collapsed, her shoulders trembling.

Gone. Just like that. Clutterstep hadn’t even gotten a proper burial. Just alone, in the dark, with two enemies grabbing for him. That wasn’t the way for an earth pony to go. “It’s not fair.” she whispered.

“I know.” Big Macintosh rested a hoof on her shoulder. Tears streamed down his cheeks, matting his coat. “I’m sorry.” Applejack reached and drew her brother into a bone-crushing hug. The world went quiet, like it was all mourning a pony who’d risked it all for a pair of friends he barely knew.

“Applejack! Big Macintosh!” A group charged over the frontier dirt. Cherry Jubilee and Lucky Roll headed a posse of a dozen deputized ponies. They were all loaded with slingshots, rocks, helmets, one even bore a kitchen sink.

Ms. Jubilee drew ahead of the group and didn’t stop until she’d collide with the Apple siblings. She drew them both to her. “Oh thank goodness, you’re all right! When Lucky Roll told me them awful Grumble Brothers had gotten you, my heart nearly gave out. Are you hurt? How did you get away? Have you seen Clutterstep? He broke outta jail and I was sure he’d do something foalish like-”

“Ms. Jubilee!” Applejack pushed away. “Clutter is... Clutter...” The words all gummed up in her throat and threatened to burn their way out.

Cherry Jubilee saw the tears running down Applejack’s face. Then those on Big Macintosh. Slowly, her head turned towards the caved in entrance to the Coltez mines. Her legs trembled and gave out. “No.” She shook her head slowly. “No. That can’t be.”

“Cherry?” Lucky Roll approached her all quiet. He slid his hooves around her and drew her into a hug. “Easy now. It’s going to be okay.”

“Don’t touch me!” She pushed away, eyes all afire and struck him across the cheek. Lucky Roll staggered from the hit, eyes going wide. Cherry Jubilee backed away from him, tears smearing makeup down her cheeks. “This is all your fault!” She shouted at the posse. “All of y’all! You kept looking the other way and let Penelope Preda ruined lives, and now one of us is... he’s gone! He’s gone because y’all were a bunch of yellow-bellied cowards!”

Big Macintosh approached the hysteric pony and calmed her with a touch. “Cherry, we ain’t got time.” Cherry Jubilee panted while looking at Big Mac like she’d just woken up and had no idea how she’d gotten way out there.

Applejack stood up and dried her own tears. “Clutterstep was right. This ain’t just a fight for your farm. If we quit, it’s all for nothing.”

“Eeyup.”

Applejack pressed her forehead to her friend’s. “We ain’t gonna let Penelope Preda do as she pleases.” She tossed a glare at the watching ponies. “Because that’s the right thing to do.”

“Yes.” Cherry Jubilee steadied herself with a few breaths. “Daylight’s wasting and the deadline’s at noon. We gotta move. But I swear, I am gonna bring that boy home one way or ‘nother.” They took off at a run, leaving behind the dumbstruck sheriff and his deputies. They raced across the dusty land, leaving Clutterstep’s resting place far behind. Applejack had to struggle to keep putting one hoof in front of the other. This was Preda’s fault, but Applejack had wasted time getting mad about the harvest when she could have gotten to know a friend. Gonna be a hard letter to write to the Princess.

It got easier once Cherry Hill Ranch came into view. The trees seemed to wave hello in the dawning breeze. We’re ready. they said. Lives come and pass, but the harvest goes on and welcomes all. Come and collect our gift.

That’s just what they did. It was a harvest like no other. Three ponies moving at a pace that would stagger most teams. Kicking, harvesting, carrying. Applejack hadn’t worked that hard since the competition with the Flim Flam Brothers. She’d keep harvesting until all four hooves fell off.

But the orchards were long and the daylight precious. They weren’t even halfway through the final field when several rickshaws pulled up, carried by the still-bandaged Varmin. Penelope Preda slithered out from the curtains and stood alongside a pegasus and two unicorns dressed in fancy duds. “Well now, this is a surprise.” Preda’s smile didn’t waver, but Applejack took some satisfaction in the griffon’s hardened eyes. “Ms. Applejack, I was under the impression you and your brother were in a terrible plight.”

“You’d know.” said Applejack. Her brother lined up next to her, and the Varmin stepped forward to make a barrier.

“I haven’t the foggiest of what y’all mean.” said Preda. She turned to the ponies. “Well then, gentlecolts, what’s say we start the business?”

“Now hold on!” said Ms. Jubilee. She was a mighty disheveled figure. All sweat stains and smudged makeup. The three stallions whickered and drew back, and Preda let out a delicate giggle. “We’ve still got two hours before the deadline.”

“Two hours.” said Preda, taking in the landscape, “and so many, many trees. And I don’t seem to hear anything crashing. I do wonder what became of dear ol’ Clutterstep.”

It was all Applejack could do not to throw herself at the witch. “C’mon, y’all. We’re finishing this.”

“Mind an extra hoof?” Lucky Roll stepped between the investor ponies and downright shoved through the Varmin line. Behind him came Doc Hacksaw, and then the general store owner. The seamstress mares came up the path, followed by the stagecoach team that gave Applejack a wary glance. The whole of Dodge Junction made their way past Penelope Preda, nodded or tilted their hats to Ms. Jubilee, and went into the orchards.

“Sheriff.” Preda’s voice was like falling razor blades. “What in tarnation are you doing?”

“What I should have done ages ago.” Lucky Roll stopped before the three friends. “I told every pony in town about Clutterstep. Lot of folks reckon that if a klutz could stand that tall, we should too. If’n you don’t mind, we’re at your service.”

Preda shouted, “All y’all, go back to your shops!” The ponies winced, but didn’t leave.

“Lucky.” Ms. Jubilee stepped up to him, eyes wet.

Lucky Roll cradled her hoof. “You’re right about me, Cherry. I am a shameful, weak pony. But I wanna be better.”

Cherry Jubilee smiled, “You can start by getting a team to the opposite end of the field.”

Under Applejack and Ms. Jubilee’s direction, the whole ranch rang with the sound of food being harvested and crates of cherries laid out before the investors. Applejack had to keep an eye on the ground just to keep from tripping over ponies as they hustled with buckets or passed out water. For the first time since returning to Dodge, Applejack felt that unity amongst earth ponies. That wonderful strength from being part of a herd.

She hardly saw Big Macintosh or Ms. Jubilee in the flurry. All she cared about was that when the town bells rang noon, the investors were all staring up at a mountain of crates filled to the lid with the best cherries in all Equestria. “Courtesy of Cherry Hill Ranch.” Ms. Jubilee said like a mother at her son’s graduation. “Do tell all your partners about us, won’t you?”

Big Macintosh stepped forward with a tray bearing samples.

The investor ponies look between themselves, then tasted. Their faces lit up after two bites.

“Not bad!” said the pegasus.

“Not bad?” said a monocle-sporting unicorn. Looked like a miniature Fancy Pants, but not half as refined. “My fellow, this scrumptious!”

The other unicorn, Manehattan stock by the look of him, said, “I’d like another batch for my hotel chain.”

Ms. Jubilee beamed and the entire town lit up a cheer.

“Well, that is regrettable.” Penelope Preda’s wing beat drew everyone to silence. “I’m afraid this is Cherry Hill Ranch’s final crop.”

“What are gabbing about?” said Ms. Jubilee. She waved at the stack of crates that reached higher than Big Macintosh’ head. “It’s all here. Paid in full.”

“Yes, this will cover the original loan quite nicely.” Ms. Preda smiled like a winter wind. “But it doesn’t cover the interest rate.” She held up a scroll and unrolled it. Was as long as an apple cart and had Ms. Jubilee’s name signed at the bottom. “According to town law, the interest rate goes up by ten percent on the final day. My math might be off by a penny or two, but I’d say you still owe an additional six hundred bits.”

The ponies went silent. Was like someone had snuffed out a candle. Ms. Jubilee scanned the document and stiffened at a paragraph typed so small Applejack couldn’t read it. “Nopony’s enacted this law in a good thirty years.”

“Nevertheless, the law was never repealed.” Preda handed the scroll to the lanky Varmin and paced the gathered ponies. She eyed each one like a buffet. “You were all so very adorable, trying to save this bit of dirt. But the law’s the law and I do believe the law is on my side. Again.” She stopped at Applejack. If her smirk was an inch wider her head would split in two. “And I’ve been brushing up on Ponyville law as well. I’ll be ever so tickled to see what kind changes I could make from a well-placed loan.”

Big Macintosh could sense his sister’s mood. “AJ.” She shrugged him off. Law or no law, Applejack was all set to wipe that smug look off her face.

Then the explosion sounded. A thunderclap that rushed over the land and sent a cry through the trees. Not again!

All eyes turned skyward, where a smoke plume rose from the horizon.

“It’s the Coltez mines.” said Lucky Roll. “Natural gas pockets must’ve gone off.”

Applejack’s stomach went into flip-flops. Clutterstep’s burial mound had just gone up in flames. Flames that streaked everywhere. Long smoke trails, like fronds off a tree. Smoking trails that were flying their way.

“Everypony, take cover!”

They broke for the orchards and hunkered behind the tree trunks. The smoking debris rained down around the farmland, kicking up dust clouds left and right. Applejack clung to her brother, thinking of home while the sky broke

“It’s the end of the world!” cried one of the Varmin. They’d all taken shelter under the rickshaws, shoving out the investor ponies.

“Tsssseeee!”

“We shoulda gone with Rawley. Ain’t nothing good comes outta this town!”

Applejack prayed that if this was the end, them thugs would at least go first.

Something huge smashed through the center of the orchard, kicking up a cloud of dust that blocked Celestia’s sun. Ponies all around screamed.

So did Ms. Preda. “The dirt! Get it away from me. Get it awaaaay!”

Applejack coughed on a dust cloud and staggered upright. The land grew quiet. Stray pebbles rained down and bopped pony heads. Applejack called through the dust and found Cherry Jubilee and Lucky Roll. The Sheriff and his deputies went around counting heads. Miracle of miracles, not one pony had been hurt.

“Hey!” cried the General Store owner. He had a silver rod in hoof, tossing it up and down while it cooled. “My antique candlestick! The Grumbles made off with this a month ago.” He blew on the still-smoking end.

“And my favorite sewing machine!” said one of the seamstress mares. She looked it over. “I can’t believe it’s still intact. Why, a few little fixes and it’ll be good as new.”

Applejack studied the treetops. They’d taken the worst of it, cushioning all the falling objects. All the things the Grumbles had taken from town. A strange tingle crept its way up her neck. This was an odd kind of luck. The kind that came out of a genuine end-of-all-days explosion.

“Ow!” She winced as something bounced off her head. A golden bit. Then another, and another. Golden flecks shined against the cherry branches. It was raining money.

“Hey now!” Lucky Roll cried as ponies danced in the falling bits or gathered them up. “That there’s Dodge Junction property until we can get all this sorted.” He said, stuffing several bits into his pocket. Cherry Jubilee slapped his hoof and he grudgingly turned out his pockets.

Applejack ran towards the largest impact. It parted the northern field’s soil into a trench with a smoking crater at the end. The dust hadn’t fully settled, but she could make out who shapes.

The Grumble Brothers had petrified mid-flight. Clinging to each other and hollering for their lives, they’d smashed through two trees and come to rest in the softened soil. Some chipped ears and a few cracks, but by and large they’d made it through intact. A length of chain had wrapped around their ankles.

Applejack stepped over a crate of silverware and checked behind smashed barrels of still-ripe potatoes. There was a fortune on Cherry Hill. I’d give it all up in a heartbeat if it meant what I hope. “Big Bro, do you think he mighta..?” She was afraid to speak the hope. Like it might spook and vanish.

Big Macintosh smiled and pointed towards the stump of the cherry tree they’d replanted that first day. “Eeyup.”

A pony-shaped hole lay next to the stump. Echoing gibberish sounded inside. Applejack and Big Macintosh dashed to the hole’s rim and crowded each other to see inside. “Clutter? You there, sugarcube?”

“Huuhhiiii Applzjuck...” A blue hoof reached up and planted itself on the rim. Big Macintosh took hold of it and hoisted the owner up with one pull.

Clutterstep’s eyes were going every which-way, and never in the same direction. His coat was so dirty he looked like a gray pony, and the red along his stained bandage had spread.

“Oh, look at you!” Applejack ran a hoof over his withers. “You went an reopened your wounds.”

“Ulzo blew up ah mntn-n-n-n.” He swayed with the breeze. “Lit um match an’ wheeeee!”

Applejack hugged him along with Big Macintosh. “I don’t care if Tartarus spit you out. I’m just glad you’re okay. Let’s get you a bath and bed. Get you right as rain.”

“No. No!” Clutterstep shook his head and his eyes focused. “Lucky Roll. I need to see Lucky Roll.” Not sure what to say, Applejack looked to her brother who nodded.

“Okay. But you just sit here and don’t do nothing. You understand? Just rest and I’ll bring everypony.” Applejack set off at a run, weaving between the cherry trees and debris like a champion rodeo racer. She emerged from the orchard to a bustle of ponies picking up belongings that they claimed were theirs and quarreling when they couldn’t make up their minds. Lucky Roll’s deputies were gathering up every stray bit, with plenty of town ponies keeping them honest by emptying their pockets. The Varmin had all been cuffed to tree trunks, but they tried to drag in nearby bits with their tails.

Lucky Roll stood off to the side with a hoof wrapped around Ms. Jubilee. She watched the ponies salvage their lives with a thin smile and tears brimming. She wouldn’t look at the dust-covered Penelope Preda across the way, who stared into emptiness and suffered a fit of shivers. The dust had settled all over her white feathers and stained her dress to near black. Her careful grooming came undone and for a moment she really did look like a feather duster.

“He’s alive!” Applejack called as she galloped towards her friends. “Clutterstep’s alive!”

The Dodge ponies stopped quarreling.

One by one, they set down whatever knick-knack they’d grabbed hold and retreated towards the ranch exit. They gave Ms. Juiblee a nod as they passed, then ran for it as soon as they reached the boundary line. Three minutes, and the property was deserted except for Applejack, her friends, and her enemies.

The investor ponies appeared to have been swept up by the Dodge Junction population. They’d have to sort that out later.

“Clutter?” Ms. Jubilee whispered. She didn’t seem to notice all the vacated neigh-bors. “Clutterstep? Really!”

Applejack smiled proudly, because she understood what Clutterstep was doing. “Right this way, the both of y’all. I imagine Clutter’s got a special gift for the town.”

She led them to the impact site with the Grumble Brothers. Clutterstep rested on the stump while Big Macintosh tied a fresh band around the blue pony’s noggin.

“Thanks.” said Clutterstep. “I think my brain was trying to leak out.”

“Eeyup.” Big Macintosh gave him a back pat that nearly launched Clutterstep from his perch.

“Clutterstep! Dearie!” Ms. Jubilee swept him up in a hug that turned him a deeper shade of blue. “Oh, you reckless, foalish pony! I should tan your hide for going off on your own like that. Why, I’ve half a mind to fire you all over again.”

“Sorry, boss.” Clutterstep grinned at her, then dislodged himself enough to salute Lucky Roll. “Sheriff, I hereby re-re-submit the Grumble Brothers for capture.”

Lucky Roll peered over the edge at the petrified Brothers. A smile worked its way up his snout, and he nodded. “Well, I’ll be. Congratulations, Clutterstep. Third time’s the charm.”

“What?” Penelope Preda stood at the edge of the impact site. Veins bulged red in her eyes and her slippers shredded as her claws poked through. Her dress hung it tatters like every tree in the orchard had taken a swipe at her. “Lucky Roll, just what do you think you’re doing?”

“Following the law.” Lucky Roll nodded to Clutterstep. “He’s turning over the Grumbles for the bounty.” A nod to Applejack and Big Macintosh. “They’re witnesses.” He then pointed to the chain around the Grumbles’ legs. “And they’re properly bound, far as this sheriff’s concerned. Ain’t no denying it. Clutterstep finally got it right”

“Hooray for me.” Clutterstep eased onto the tree stump. “Give the bounty to my boss.” He pointed to Ms. Jubilee.

“Oh, Clutter.” The owner of Cherry Hills Ranch covered her mouth with one hoof. “You... you’ve no idea what you’ve done.”

Clutterstep shrugged. “Never do. But I hope this pays back most of the stuff I broke.”

“Oh, it’ll do that just fine. And there’s plenty left to restore my ranch after I pay off my debt.” She smiled at Penelope Preda. “I do believe a ledger from the sheriff will fit the law, don’t you?”

Preda’s eyes bulged and her beak hung low. “I... you can’t...”

“Look at it this way,” said Applejack, “this’ll cover all the money you paid for all that sunscreen.”

“Hardly!” Preda shouted, then covered her mouth with her talons. She stared at Lucky Roll, horror spreading.

The Sheriff produced a pair of cuffs. “That’ll do. Not that it matters, considering Rawley Ratsnout confessed to freeing the Grumbles the first time around.” Lucky Roll approached her real slow. “Penelope Preda, I’m placing you under arrest for aiding criminals and conspiracy for, well, you name it.” The cuffs clattering from his jaw.

“Keep away from me, you filthy pony!” Penelope Preda’s wings unfurled and her feathers jutted out like daggers. Snarling, she swatted Lucky Roll aside and sprang. Her ruined dress shredded against her claws and talons, but her wings propelled her higher and higher until she was above the cherry orchard.

She scanned them all with pure red eyes and a maniac grin. Applejack could swear she saw drool glisten against her beak. “Ponies are only good for eating. And I know which will be the best meal!” She dove straight for Clutterstep. Every pony realized it at the same moment.

Clutterstep stumbled on his perch, legs too wobbly for him to run. Big Macintosh moved quick as wind to protect his friend.

Applejack and Ms. Jubilee were quicker. They blocked Preda’s flight, spun, and kicked with all the strength they’d built over a lifetime of work. Applejack had to smile at the tremor running through her legs.

Penelope Preda flung back into a cherry tree’s waiting grip. The branches held her for half a tick, then flopped her into the dirt. She lay there, moaning.

“Nice kick there, Ms. Jubilee.”

“Thank you, Applejack. I still got it! Would you please see to our unwelcome guest while I mind the sheriff?” She trotted off towards Lucky Roll, who was staring at her all flabbergasted.

Applejack and Big Macintosh approached the fallen griffon, all caution. A set of hoofprints indented her belly, and the odd angle of her jaw said she wouldn’t be feasting on anything solid for a good long while. Her eyes met Applejack’s and any trace of the proud, delicate griffon vanished. This was a wounded beast, and it knew the prey wasn’t so easy.

Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she lay quiet.

“Big Mac, how’s about you gather some rope for this here ‘lady?’ I reckon I’ll be sending a telegram to Canterlot. I’ll make sure they her a clean cell in the Equestria Penitentiary.”

“Eeyup.”

Chapter 11: Home Again

Applejack awoke before dawn, like any farmer. Unlike most days, she let herself lie a few extra minutes. Her legs were sore from the final harvest and the rest of her tired from being ponynapped, rescued, nearly crushed, and, well, it was time to go home.

She studied the patterns in the ceiling. Ms. Jubilee’s home. Hers again. No debts, no worries. Oh, there was plenty that still needed doing. She’d need an entire new staff, and loads of repair work for all the stuff that got smashed in Clutterstep’s return. The barn had a chifferobe through its ceiling. Gotta patch that up.

But she had the money to take care of that, and plenty of ponies who wanted to come back and work for her. They’d said so when Lucky Roll and Ms. Jubilee had gone into town to tell everyone about Penelope Preda’s arrest. Applejack and Big Macintosh had stayed behind to keep an eye on Clutterstep. He’d fallen asleep two seconds after tumbling into bed and hadn’t stirred all night. The Apple kin had listened to the celebration in the town square.

“Totally unplanned,” Ms. Jubilee told them on her return, “but so much fun! Why, you’d think that Princess Celestia herself was coming to visit.” That had been the old Cherry Jubilee. The one who’d taken Applejack in and given her a second home. All lively and friendly without tears. That had been celebration enough for Applejack.

A knock at her door. “Come in.”

Big Macintosh crept inside. He had his saddleback over his side.

“All set to go, big bro?”

“Eeyup.”

“Just gimme a sec.” Applejack had packed just before bed. A quick combing of her mane and she was set. She’ worry about a bath once they were back home and she’d hugged Applebloom twenty times. She paused when she realized that it’d been twenty-four hours since she been all set to give up the fight and lose this ranch. What a difference a day made. And the right pony.

“Heck of a harvest.” said Applejack.

“Eeyup.”

“And we still got Applebuck Season.”

“Eeyup.”

“Twilight and the others should be back the same time we get there. I reckon they’d be willing to lend a hoof.”

“Reckon so.” said Big Macintosh with a grin. Twilight could harvest a whole orchard with her magic. They’d have it done in no time. Famous last words. Applejack grinned. “Let’s say our goodbyes real quiet-like. Clutterstep should still be sleeping.”

“Eeyup.” They crept down the hallway and peeked in on Clutterstep’s room. Applejack had a note all set wishing him well and inviting him to Ponyville when he was feeling better. She’d just leave it by his bedside and hope to see him again soon.

His bed was empty.

“Oh, for the love of—!” Applejack charged down the hallway and into the kitchen. She was halfway to the door when a voice came from behind the kitchen table. “Sheesh, somepony’s in a hurry.” Clutterstep sat with a cup of tea between his hooves. Ms. Jubilee was next to him. She looked tired, but happy. She’d gone back to town after checking in with Applejack and Big Macintosh. By the look of it, she’d just gotten back herself.

“You should be in bed!” said Applejack.

“Nah.” said Clutterstep. “Too solid. Started to miss my hammock.” He offered up his tea cup. Ms. Jubilee topped it off using the flask she kept hidden.

“I’ve been trying to get Clutterstep to see reason, but he’s stubborn as a—well, it’s not proper to make comparisons.” Applejack was about to ask what Ms. Jubilee meant when she noticed a fresh pair of saddlebags resting next to Clutterstep. A small set, half the size of Applejack’s. A lighter shade of blue than Clutterstep’s coat and sealed with a silver buckle.

Applejack studied him. “What the hay is going on?”

Clutterstep shrugged. “I’ve resigned. Time to move on.”

“Huh?” Big Macitnosh sat down across from the pair. Applejack joined him.

Clutterstep cleared his throat. “I’m, um, taking off. Gonna say my farewells to Dodge Junction.”

“What for?” said Applejack.

Cherry Jubilee gave them each a filled teacup. “I’ve been trying to tell him there’s no rush. Why, once the worker ponies come back--”

“They’re not going to come back.” said Clutterstep. “Not while I’m here.”

“Aw, sugarcube, why would anypony think that?”

A wry grin spread over Clutterstep. “Well, I did blow up a mountain and rain down debris on their homes. Ponies tend to get a little jittery when you do that. Trust me, I know.” He spoke with experience, and Applejack wasn’t inclined to question.

“Well, shoot.” said Applejack. Then inspiration struck. “In that case, why not come back with us to Ponyville?”

“Eeyup!” Big Macintosh nodded.

“No.” Clutterstep sighed and sipped his blended tea. “I really appreciate it, Jack, Big M. But we both know I’d be knocking over your barn and toppling apple trees before the sun set.”

Applejack scratched at her mane. “That happens pretty often anyway. We’re used to it, aren’t we?”

“Eeyup.” said her brother, a little glum.

“My answer’s still no.” said Clutterstep. “I don’t want to do that to... my friends.” He smiled as he said the word. Like having a drink of water in a drought.

Applejack sat quiet-like for a spell. There was a piece to this she wasn’t catching. She tried to remember everything he’d said and done (which wasn’t hard, given most of it involved crashes). “Is this about Princess Celestia?” Clutterstep’s head snapped up, his eyes wide. Bingo. “There’s bound to be a royal investigation about that there mine blowing. And the arrest of two trolls and a griffon. Stuff like that’s gotta reach the royal ears.” Applejack set her tea cup down. “And then you got all serious when I mentioned writing the Princess. Is that why you don’t wanna come home with us? You think we’ll tell the Princess?”

Clutterstep turned his teacup this way and that. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention me.”

Ms. Jubilee rested her hoof on his. “Clutter, dearie, are you in trouble?”

“No more than usual.” He chuckled. “I’d just rather avoid her as much as I can.” His tone said that was as much as they were going to get, and if they wanted to part civilized then they shouldn’t ask more questions.

“All right.” Applejack deflated. She didn’t want to part ways on bad terms. “But you know, that offer’s always open. Whenever you want a roof over your head and a full belly, you just come see us.”

Clutterstep smiled at her. A warm, genuine smile that lightened the mood. “Thanks, Jack. But no worries about me. I got a pretty generous severance.” He patted the saddlebags. They jingled.

“Which reminds me.” Ms. Jubilee produced two drawstring purses and set them before the Apples. “Your share of the bounty, plus pay for all your help.”

“Oh, Ms. Jubilee! We can’t accept this!” Applejack made to push the purse away. It was dang heavy.

“I won’t hear of it, Applejack. You two went above and beyond and I mean to do well by you both.” She winked at Big Macintosh. “And know that y’all will always have a special place in my heart and a place here at Cherry Hill Ranch.”

“Um... Eeyup.” Big Macintosh accepted the purse and tucked it into his saddlebag. After some extra hesitation, Applejack did the same.

Cherry Jubilee breathed a heavy sigh. “This home’s gonna be a good deal bigger with y’all gone. I really hope you’ll come visit from time to time. I promise the next time will be less, well, life-threatening.” They all shared a good laugh and were interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Now who in Equestria?” Ms. Jubilee went to the kitchen door and swung it wide. The two young Varmin, the ones that had disappeared for the last day or so, stood on the doorstep with paws held behind their backs.

Big Macintosh stood and went beside Ms. Jubilee, and the youngins shrank back.

“Beggin’ your pardon, Ms. Jubilee. It’s just, um, me and my brother was thinking of starting over, and I had this idea-”

“Oy!” said the other tyke. “It was my idea!”

“Was not!” The first Varmin grabbed his brother by the blue overalls.

“Hey!” Big Macintosh stomped a hoof and the Varmin froze mid-struggle. “Brothers don’t fight.”

The two let go and went back to fidgeting on the doorstep. “Yes sir.” said the first. “Anyways, my brother Scramp and me, we was looking for a way out of town after parting ways with Rawley and the others.” Their tails started to twitch, and Applejack could swear she saw a tear try to well up.

Scamp said, “But Scrap and I, we made a promise, y’see. We swore we’d never go back to the homeland. It’s a ruddy place, y’see. So, um, we didn’t know where to go.”

Scrap took over. “And we asked ourselves, what could we do around Dodge? We’s not much for selling or building.”

“More like stealing and sabotage.” muttered Clutterstep. Applejack nudged him under the table.

“So we asked ourselves what place we knew best around these parts. And it was decided,” Scrap shot his brother a look, “that we knew Cherry Hills Ranch the best.”

Cherry Jubilee’s eyes narrowed. “Meaning that y’all have been here enough times, stealing my goods and messing with the property.”

The two Varmin drew in on themselves. “Um, yes’m.”

Scrap added, “But we promise not to do that anymore. You... you gotta believe us, Ms. Jubilee! We ain’t got nowhere else to go and nopony would have us after what we done. But we thought, well, you... you...” The both of them started to shake.

“All right, all right.” Ms. Jubilee drew them both into a hug. She rubbed a hoof over their shoulders and looked to Applejack. “Light the stove, will you dearie? These boys look like they haven’t had a proper meal in a spell.”

Before long, the two Varmin were stuffing their snouts with cherry pancakes drenched in maple syrup. Applejack and Ms. Jubilee sat across from them while Clutterstep and Big Macintosh waited against the far wall.

“So you two want to work at my ranch?” said Ms. Jubilee.

“Yes’m.” said Scrap in between bites. “We’re good and carrying stuff, and we can move real fast.”

Scamp nodded and made to wipe his snout on his sleeve. Ms. Jubilee cleared her throat and nodded at a napkin. The youngin took the hint. “We’s also good and finding little weaknesses, you see? Places folks could sneak in and well...”

“Loosen a branch or two?” said Clutterstep. Neither of the Varmin would look at him.

Ms. Jubilee nodded slowly. “Before I decide anything, I want you two to answer me right honest. Did either of you have anything to do with that branch that hurt Clutterstep?” Both sat up straighter and opened their mouths, but Ms. Jubilee said, “If you lie, I will know. And you will not be welcome on this ranch at all.” That made them hunker back down.

“We, um,” Scrap stuttered, “we don’t know which branch dropped, mum, but we...”

“We did help.” said Scamp. “Rawley’s orders, you see?”

“I do see.” Ms. Jubilee looked at Clutterstep. “Was your noggin, dearie. What do you have to say?”

Now they tykes were looking at him. Had the look of caterpillars staring at a flock of birds. Clutterstep looked at them a good long while before he pushed away from the wall and stood behind Ms. Jubilee and Applejack.

“Give ‘em a job.” he said.

“Really?” said the twins.

“You sure?” said Applejack.

Clutterstep shrugged and helped himself to a leftover pancake. “For the most part, I was on my own growing up. I made a lot of stupid, stupid mistakes. Lucky I’m still standing here.” He glared at the two Varmin. “Now you guys, you’ve made some stupid mistakes of your own. And I want to make this clear: anything that Rawley taught you gets left behind right now. You take your lessons from Ms. Jubilee and don’t give her any trouble. Or I’ll find out and come back here.”

“Eeyup.” said Big Macintosh.

“Yeah, him too.”

Ms. Jubilee held up a hoof. “Won’t be necessary, though thank you both kindly.” To the Varmin twins, she said, “If you pilfer or mess with anything, I’ll tan both your hides faster than you can blink. If you’re gonna work for me, you’re gonna have to learn to be honest, respectful, and above all else, learn to share.”

Scamp leaned towards Scrap. “What’s a ‘share’?”

“Dunno. Right funny word, ain’t it?”

Ms. Jubilee cleared her throat, “Do you promise to honor my rules and respect my guests?”

“Yes’m!” They both said, then shivered.

“Cor! Never said a promise and meant it before.”

“Yeah. Feelings bloody odd, doesn’t it?”

Ms. Jubilee said, “And you should both thank Mr. Clutterstep.”

The twins smiled at him. “Yeah. Thanks, mister!”

“You’re not a big a git as Rawley said.”

Clutterstep blinked. “Um. Thank you?”

Applejack stood up and stretched. “Long as that’s settled, I reckon we were about to go catch a train. Losing daylight on the apple harvest now.”

Scrap and Scamp’s first duty on the ranch was to bear Applejack and Clutterstep’s luggage down to the train station. Ponies on the street nodded to Ms. Jubilee and raised eyebrows at the two Varmin, but Applejack noticed not a one looked at Clutterstep. If not for the quickened steps, a pony would think they couldn’t see him at all.

“They could at least say howdy.” she said.

Clutterstep said, “It’s okay.”

“No it ain’t! You helped save this here town.”

Clutterstep smiled at pointed across the train tracks. “Who needs a thank you when I get to see that?”

On the furthest platform, under the watch of several royal guards, Penelope Preda, the remaining Varmin, and the Grumble Brothers all marched into a steel prisoner car. They were bound by thick chains and a muzzle fit over Preda’s beak. She caught sight of them and that fever crazed came over her eyes.

Clutterstep waved, “Bye-bye, Ms. Feather Duster!”

Preda tried to vault away from the group, a snarl slipping through the leather strips binding her beak. The guards had bound her wings and shackled her claws, and with their unicorn magic she didn’t get half a hoof before being dragged back into the car. Applejack hoped that was the last she ever saw of them.

“Just can’t seem to stop poking the hornet’s nest, can you?” Sheriff Lucky Roll approached the group and took off his hat to nod at Ms. Jubilee. She smiled and nodded back.

Clutterstep grinned, “Just letting her know that she’s not forgotten. I’ll miss her, really. Who am I going to taunt?”

Lucky Roll snorted and said, “So you’re really leaving?”

“Uh-huh. You’re gonna have a much easier time of being sheriff, Rolls.”

“No sir.” said Lucky Roll, his left eye twitching at the nickname. “Just got off the wire with them Appleoosa ponies. Sheriff Silver Star’s sending up a deputy he thinks is ready to handle the bigger stuff. Be up here in ‘bout a week and then I’m out of a job.” He sighed, absently pawing at his badge. “Wasn’t fer me anyway. Too many rules.”

“Well,” said Ms. Jubilee, “if’n you don’t mind a few rules, I could use me some help on the ranch. Keeping these two in line, mind you.” She smiled at Scrap and Scamp.

“Cherry, I would be delighted.” They shared a look then, and Applejack had no doubt that Ms. Jubilee wouldn’t feel lonely for long.

A station conductor called out, “Train to Ponyville departing in ten minutes. Train to Baltimare departing in five!”

“That’s me.” Clutterstep accepted his bag from Scrap and tested the weight.

“It’s all there!” said Scrap.

“Sorry. Force of habit.”

“Baltimare?” said Applejack.

“Being a ranch pony didn’t work out for me. Thought I’d go by Horseshoe Bay and see if I’d made a better sailor.” He gave Ms. Jubilee a hug, nodded to Lucky Roll and the tykes. “Take care of yourselves, Apples.” To Big Macintosh, he gave a solid hoof bump.

Applejack beat him to the hug. “Listen, Clutter, you need to know that them other ponies got it all wrong. You’re a prince. A right prince.” And she could tell by his watering eyes and the broad, genuine smile he gave that she’d said just the right thing.

“Thank you, Applejack.”

“Last call for Baltimare!” Clutterstep turned and dashed into the train car, tripping on the top step. Several passenger ponies jumped off.

“Gonna miss him,” said Lucky Roll. “Bit like loosing a tooth ache.”

“You think we’ll get to see him again?” said Cherry Jubilee.

“Eeyup.”

Applejack grinned, “I can guarantee it.” She winked while she and her brother made their way to their own train. Back to home and friends and family. To a harvest that protected her own place in the world and the comfort that brought. “Clutter may be headed far and away, but we’ve got kin in just about every corner of Equestria. We put the word out, and there’ll be an Apple looking out for him no matter where.”

Because an Apple always honored her friends.

XXXXX

A right tragedy, it was.

Rawley had taken in the whole scene from under the train car. Harumphy and the lads carted off by the fuzz. Scrap and Scamp under the hoof of them ponies. Why, they might actually become honest boys. Oh, the horror!

Rawley offered them a silent toast with the bottle of bourbon he’d swiped before making his way to the train station. The liquor helped numb the ache in his joints from when the sheriff’s office came down on his. Right miracle he’d managed a way out. Someone up there might actually be looking out for him.

All in all, not a bad getaway. He hadn’t a coin to his name and no one to take the next fall, of course, but those details tended to sort themselves out. So long as he had all his parts in the proper place, he could bounce back from anything.

So adieu, Ms. Preda. Fare thee well Dodge Junction. Spin on it, Harumphy and you thickheaded twats. Rawley took another swig and allowed himself a smile.

Security on the train was pretty lax what with them Grumble Brothers being carted off to the great unknown. Be a proper shame not to take advantage of this unique situation.

Rawley crept out of the private cabin he’d helped himself into and stalked down the hallway. Bit of a trick, getting into the passenger car unseen, but nothing beyond his experience and the shadow of a tunnel. Was nearly deserted, which suited him just fine. Them Dodge Ponies would be too busy getting their lives back in order to worry about travel any time soon.

The jingle-jangle of bits in a bag caught his ear and the sweet scent of opportunity filled his snout. One passenger, asleep in his window seat, bit-filled saddlebags next to him. Bloody stupid. Ponies just were too trusting. That’s what made them so wonderful targets.

Yeah, the whole of Equestria was open to him. With deep pockets and low guard. If this weren’t the Infinite Garbage Dumpster’s paradise, it was a bloody fine preview.

Rawley padded up and smiled at the target. He slept with eyes closed and bead of drool coming off his lip. Oh, someone up there definitely likes me. He waited for the car to go over a particularly loud set of tracks before reaching for the saddlebag strap.

A blue hoof slammed down on his paw, pinning him to the seat. And Rawley had just enough thought to send a message to whatever might be watching. Well, bugger you too!

“Hi Rawley.” said Clutterstep. “So good to see you.”

Epilogue

Princess Celestia, co-ruler of Equestira and beloved of the sun, wanted very much to chuck her paperwork out the tower window. Even in the comfort of her study, with a warm drink at her side and resting atop her bed, she just couldn’t relax. Reports on the Griffon Empire, whispers of plots across the seas, a banquet to prepare and logistics for Twilight Sparkle’s new role.

A thousand years of life experience, and she still wondered if she’d ever get ahead of paperwork.

A gout of green fire swept in through a chute next to the fireplace. Celestia smiled as she shook her pastel mane out of its path. It had been a good while since she’d received a friendship report from her little ponies. What a wonderful distraction.

The green fire swirled and solidified into a roll of parchment that Celestia caught up in her magical field. Applejack’s hoofwriting, without a doubt. She was one of the few ponies to write the letters herself rather than dictate to Spike. Hopefully this wouldn’t be another “I was right all along” lesson.

Dear Princess Celestia,

I’ve always prided myself on being a good worker. Been at it so long that I sometimes forget that not every pony knows the same as myself. I realized that it can be easy to lose sight of what it’s like to not be familiar with something, and to become impatient when somepony isn’t catching on as quick as I think they should.

But thanks to a brave pony (who’s asked to remain nameless), I learned today that just because a pony might not be the best at a task, that’s no reason to just give up on him. A good heart and a strong will can accomplish amazing things. Things that no pony would’ expect. If you give your friends a chance and keep faith, they might just shine brighter than you could imagine.

Your loyal subject,
Applejack

Celestia smiled and set the letter down near the shelf where she kept previous reports. Little things like that reminded her of why she helped shepherd the land. To see her ponies learn and grow and leave the world a better place than when they arrived. That was her truest pleasure.
A good heart and a strong will.

She stood and stretched out her wings, vowing to go for a flight after setting the sun. She went to the open window to breath in the summer air and allow her mind a chance to wander.

On a nearby table waited several more reports. News of an explosion near Dodge Junction. The collapse of abandoned mines that had long been considered a hazard. Thousands in property damage, but no loss of life. Also news of two ruthless bandits captured along with their employer and her gang. That had been a lingering headache. Celestia had taken note of the growing debt problem in Dodge and set her staff to finding the solution, but it seemed some very accident-prone ponies had stepped in and found a way. And they’d managed to accomplish the task legally, if not with perfect cleanliness.

Celestia smiled and looked out across the land. They wouldn’t hear her, but she wanted to say it all the same.

“Well done, Applejack. Well done, Clutterstep.”

Author's Note

I want to thank folks like Cosmic Mind, StudyingTwilight, Jonathon Smythe, and others who added this story to their favorites while it wasn't even complete. It's a wonderful compliment and I am grateful.

And you, dear reader, for taking the time for my first MLP fan fiction. I hope it was entertaining. I'd love to hear people's thoughts. What worked, what needs improvement, and your thoughts on ponies like Clutterstep.

Thanks and take care!

Chapter 7: Home for Wanderers

The soft soil of Sweet Apple Acres felt right under Applejack’s hooves. Familiar, like a favorite blanket or a family member’s hug. The greens and reds of the apple fields stretched out before her, and she drank in their scent on her way up the path. Hom reached out to embrace her, and she let the path draw her into a run with a “Yee-haw!” to announce her return.

Granny Smith stood smiling at the doorstep, just as she had every day she welcomed Applejack home from school. Less patient was Applebloom, her pink bow bouncing atop her mane as she waved. Wynona yipped and raced in tight circles, his tail moving twice as fast.

Applejack was halfway there when the ground trembled. So strong and sudden that she lost her footing and lay sprawled. All the warmth had left the land. She looked back at the apple trees and found them wilted and leafless. A gust carried the few remaining leafs away.

“Applejack!” Her little sister screamed as yellow talons rose around their home and lifted it into the sky. It dug up years of tradition, of family history. It all came raining down in patches of dirt.

Penelope Preda towered over Applejack, big as Canterlot Mountain. She grinned and held the Apple family home overhead. Her talons flexed, breaking the barn’s siding. “Mine now!”

She crushed it.

“Nooo!” Applejack bolted upright. Sheets fluttered off her and she looked up at an unfamiliar ceiling. The cherry patterns along the walls were her first hint. She was in a cold sweat, and sleep was as far off as Cloudsdale. Applejack steadied herself with a few breaths and slid out of bed. Just a dream. She repeated again and again. This time tomorrow, she’d be back home and keeping her kin safe.

It was a guilty thought, abandoning Ms. Jubilee like that. But the mare had made up her mind and Applejack couldn’t say she was against the idea of getting back to her home.

What about Ms. Jubilee’s home? said that voice within that sounded so much like her momma.

Applejack couldn’t bring herself to think about that. I can be there for her. If she’s calling it done, that’s all I can do.

Her family always spoke the truth, but that didn’t make it easier. Applejack remembered the first night she’d ever slept on the Ranch. After that long train ride from Canterlot to Dodge Junction; sore from the Equestrian Rodeo and bearing a saddlebag full of ribbons of every color except blue. Cherry Jubilee had fixed her a warm meal and given her a warm bed, no questions asked. Hadn’t even pressed that Applejack needed to get up early for her first day.

“You’ve had a busy week. Best get some rest first.”

She’d never told anypony, not even her family, but Applejack had cried that first night. Far from home, disappointed and ashamed and frightened. The world hadn’t seemed so frightening the next morning, when Ms. Jubilee presented her with a stack of pancakes with cherry syrup. Had tasted like a home-cooked meal should. Applejack sometimes wondered where she might’ve ended up if she hadn’t met Ms. Jubilee. Hadn’t come to a place that was so much like her own home. Lucky me. Real lucky. I want to do the same for her.

Applejack paused in front of the mirror to give her mane a hasty brush and putting on her Stetson before pacing down the hallway. She passed Clutterstep’s room along the way. He’d been stubborn about Applejack getting some sleep and that he’d be fine. She believed that as far as she could buck a mountain, but she’d been plum tired and Ms. Jubilee’s announcement had sapped the rest of her strength.

The dream came up again. She could hear Applebloom and Granny Smith screaming. She needed to get home.

Ms. Jubilee sat at the kitchen card table, tea cup between her hooves and staring out at Celestia’s new dawn. Applejack sat down next to her and shared the sight. It was something few ponies took the time to appreciate, but to an earth pony it was life itself. “How long have you been up?”

“All night.” said Ms. Jubilee. She poured a cup for Applejack. “My time on this ranch is down to hours. Figured I shouldn’t waste ‘em on sleeping.” She took a long sip and refilled her cup.

Applejack rubbed her foreleg. “Listen, Ms. Jubilee, if’n y’all need a place to stay for a spell-”

“I’ve got kin up in Vanhoover. They won’t mind the company. But thank you kindly, dearie.” She set the teacup down, turned it this way and that. “Thank you for everything. I would have lost hope if’n it weren’t for you and them stallions. But now I know that I can still count on ponies to do the right thing.”

Applejack took as swig and wished for some of whatever was in Ms. Jubilee’s flask. “Fighting for your home is the right thing to do.”

“I know.” said Ms. Jubilee, almost whispering. “You know how I started this ranch, all them years ago? Back then, I’d never even heard of Dodge Junction. I was a farm pony living along the Unicorn Range. Worked on my family’s farm, helping them grow pears.”

“Pears?” said Applejack.

Cherry Jubilee winked at her. “I was the oddball of the family. Momma always did make a fuss over the fact I had a cherry cutie mark.” Applejack thought of her Uncle Orange. Still a part of the family, but as different as the Sisters’ night and day.

Ms. Jubilee continued, “I fell in love with a stallion working the farm as a hired hoof. Oh, he was a right charmer. Had a silver tongue and a flank you could bounce bits off.” She giggled, a blush creeping over. “He would whisper such sweet nothings. My daddy saw how I was getting drawn in, said the stallion was no good for me. Got into a right spat with both my parents and before I knew it, I was off and away with my silver-tongued stallion to elope.”

Applejack realized she had leaned in and wasn’t blinking. To hay with it. “What happened?”

Ms. Jubilee sipped at her tea and sighed, “I was all set to be wed to him one fine morning. Stood there at the altar. No witnesses, just me and the reverend. I didn’t think I needed anything more. Was wrong, of course. I needed a groom.”

Applejack gasped. “He did not.”

“He did. Don’t know if the pressure was just too much or if he found another mare that stirred him up, but I never saw him again. I hadn’t a clue on where to go or what to do. Couldn’t go back to my family. Right foalish of me, getting taken in by sweet words. Just too proud to admit I’d done wrong. So I bought a train ticket to wherever, and I came to Dodge. Decided to do the only thing I knew how and bought a plot of land and a sack of seeds. Spent the next years of my life spreading out that orchard as far as my eyes could wander.”

“And your family?” said Applejack. “Did you ever settle things with them?”

Ms. Jubilee smiled and poured Applejack a fresh cup. “I did. But only after I’d had time to think about where I’d been. That’s the magic of this town. It’s there for ponies who’ve got nowhere to go. Gives you a chance to wipe the slate clean and start over, if’n you got the courage.” Ms. Jubilee sighed and set the kettle aside. “I guess that’s what I’ve missed the most lately. All the courage has bled on out. I hardly recognize Dodge Junction anymore.”

Applejack sat quiet, sipping her drink and thinking about all the ponies she’d seen in the town. “What about Lucky Roll, Ms. Jubilee?”

“Lucky.” she said the name wistfully. “He was a lot like me. Came from Las Pegasus after losing his last bit in a bad game. Hadn’t a clue on where to start again. I offered him a chance to work the ranch, and darned if I didn’t go falling for another stallion all over again.” She inhaled as if tasting something sweet. “Oh, he had such joy in his heart. Life was a gamble and it thrilled him. Then he played a game against one of them Varmin—Rawley, the lead one—and lost. Not long after, he became sheriff even though he hadn’t asked for it. Starting looking the other way when Preda’s gang made trouble, and all the joy left him. I don’t recognize him no more neither.”

Applejack bit her lip. All her legs wound up tight like she wanted to kick all the fear and misery out of this town, but she had no idea how to start. Fighting against monsters like Nightmare Moon and the Discord had spoiled her. Those were targets, something that gave she focus. Penelope Preda couldn’t bring eternal night or turn the weather, but she’d spread a kind of darkness that Applejack couldn’t kick. Made her so mad, home suddenly felt further away. “We can still save this ranch.” she said. “It’ll be close, but we can still go for it.”

“Thank you again, Applejack. But I started this ranch to make life. I loved to watch the saplings I planted grow into trees that’d give their fruit to Equestria and feed all them families with their colts and fillies. I felt like I was serving something greater.” Ms. Jubilee shuddered. “But if you or Clutterstep had died from that branch... My dream ain’t worth a pony’s life. And that’s final.”

Applejack couldn’t think of a thing to say. Twilight always encouraged her friends to speak from the heart. “You’ve always been a good friend to me. I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.”

“Oh, pish-posh!” Cherry Jubilee drew Applejack into a warm hug. “You’ve done wonders. Don’t you doubt it.”

The kitchen doorway opened and Big Macintosh wandered in.

“What in the hey happened to you?”

Her brother had scratches all over his coat and it looked like something had tried to nosh his ear. He wore a grim expression and didn’t say a word as he went the refrigerator and drew a bottle of milk.

Applejack scowled up at him. “Are you gonna tell me what you’ve been up to?”

Big Macintosh seemed to give it due thought. “Nnope.”

“Why you!”

“Apples!” Ms. Jubilee stood. “Please, I don’t want to start this day on a fight. If’n Big Macintosh doesn’t want to talk, let’s not force him.” The big red pony nodded his thanks, but Applejack swore he was gonna get ten earfuls on the train ride back.

Ms. Jubilee checked the sun. “Train station opens fairly early. Best to get a-moving. Why don’t you both say your farewells to Clutterstep?”

Applejack glanced towards his room. “You sure we should wake him?”

“He’d be so upset if you left without getting in a goodbye. Even if he don’t have much of a gift for gab, he’ll be glad.”

The Apple siblings crept down the hall and knocked on Clutterstep door. “Clutter? We’re coming in.” She opened the door slowly, not wanting to make a fuss. Except it was too quiet in the room. Applejack was sure Clutterstep would at least snore or make some kind of racket. Be funny if the most accident-prone pony in Equestria was a quiet sleeper.

Or invisible.

His bed was empty. The covers were thrown back and his pillow hadn’t been touched in hours. The water glass Applejack had brought stood empty as the room. Applejack’s blood pressure went straight up to Princess Luna’s moon. “That irresponsible, reckless, stupid klutz!” She whirled on her brother. “Did you see him on your way back?”

“Nnope.” Big Macintosh went to the back door and the western fields, but Applejack dodged past him and galloped in the orchards. Ms. Jubilee was close behind them, calling to know what was wrong. Applejack paid her no mind and dashed through the rows of cherry trees until she heard the clatter of buckets.

Clutterstep’s head was still bandaged and his step even woozier than normal. He set a bucket under a ripe cherry tree and went to the trunk. He didn’t see her until he lined up for the buck. “Oh, morning! You got any of that coffee from yesterday? I kinda need to burn out some nerves.” He winced and pressed a hoof to his head.

Applejack exploded, “Y’all are supposed to be in bed, resting!”

Clutterstep winced harder. “I’m also not supposed to listen to really loud noises, but here we are.” He lined up his hind legs. “Center of the grain, right?”

“A little to your left.” Applejack caught herself. “Don’t go changing the subject!”

“I’m not. The subject is and always has been getting this harvest ready.”

Ms. Jubilee and Big Macintosh caught up to them. “Clutter! I told you, you’re fired!”

Clutterstep laughed and looked like he regretted it. “Technically, you never hired me. And I still owe you for all those meals and the bed, so I’ll just have at it.” He tried to line up, but staggered. Big Macintosh darted in and caught him before he could fall.

“That does it!” said Ms. Jubilee. “Clutterstep, if you won’t have the sense to lie in bed then I want you off my property this instant!”

Clutterstep righted himself with Big Macintosh’s help and looked at Cherry Jubilee head-on. “Are you going to call the sheriff on me?”

“What? No!”

“Then I guess you’re just going to have to put up with me. Because this isn’t just your dream on the line. Crud, it’s not even about this ranch! You do what you gotta, but until Penelope Preda lights this grove on fire I’m going to keep harvesting.” He ended the speech with a kick. It was better than his work the previous day, but the cherries still fell out the wrong side. “Ugh.”

Ms. Jubilee looked at the Apples. “Will you please talk some sense into this pony?”

Big Macintosh looked at the fallen cherries, then at Clutterstep. “Nnope.” He went to a pile of buckets, grabbed the biggest one, and went to the next tree. His kick was spot-on.

Ms. Jubilee turned to Applejack, who’d been dreading this. Never been pulled so far between what she wanted and what she needed before. The wind whispered in her ear, and she could hear the trees calling, Whatever. Bring on the blue-thing!

“Applejack, you have a home waiting for you.”

The blonde pony nodded, “And when I get home, I wanna be able to look my little sister in the eye and tell her that I did the right thing.” She went the bucket pile and picked the first one she saw. Took it to the next-nearest tree. She centered on the grain, pretended it was Penelope Preda’s face, and kicked.

The next few hours were a blur of bucking, harvesting, and repeating. Applejack couldn’t recall the last time she’d tackled a harvest like that. Was like fighting the Changeling army again, kicking for all she was worth for the sake of her homeland. Clutterstep had the right of it, this was about more than just a ranch. And every time Applejack started to feel weary or that she couldn’t kick another tree, she’d glance over and see Clutterstep and Big Macintosh and even Ms. Jubilee giving it their all. She kept going .

There were still setbacks. Clutterstep’s unsteady hooves weren’t helped by a wobbling head. He’d trip or miss a target, but he waved off anypony’s attempt to get him to stop. Wasn’t until Ms. Jubilee ordered the whole lot of them to take a lunch break that Applejack got a chance to chat with him.

“Y’know, I just can’t figure you out.” She sat down next to him in the shade of a bright pink cherry tree. Ms. Jubilee had brought them lettuce sandwiches and glasses of cherry-soda.

Clutterstep shrugged as he took a bite. “I’m not that deep. I just don’t like letting bullies win.”

“I think there’s a might bit more than that.” She gave him a light push on the shoulder. “C’mon, now. I’ve known you for two and half days and still don’t know a thing about you.”

“Not much to say. Truth is, I’m not cut out to be a farmer. Near as I can tell, I’m not cut out for much of anything. Not even a very good earth pony.” He sighed and pawed at the dirt. Looked like a cat during a milk drought.

“That ain’t true!” said Applejack. “Fact is, you’ve got a special talent; and the proof’s right there.” She pointed at his heart-shield cutie mark.

“Oh, that.” Clutterstep took a sip from of soda. “I’m not sure what it means. How about that? A pony who doesn’t know his own destiny.”

Applejack frowned at the banded heart (Or was it a shield? Still couldn’t tell). “How’d you come to get that mark?”

“Oh... uh...” Clutterstep fidgeted. “Um, Igtmftbumgrl.”

Applejack canted her head. “Beg yer pardon?”

Clutterstep muttered, “Gtkssdbmgrl.”

“Little louder.”

He snapped “I got kissed by a girl, okay?”

“Go on, dearie!” Ms. Jubilee’s eyes sparkled. She hadn’t been there two seconds ago. Now she was all set to tangle her mane with Clutterstep’s. Applejack couldn’t deny she was crowding his personal space as well.

Clutterstep tried not to make eye contact with either of them. “Aw, crud. Big M, want to help me out here?”

Applejack’s brother sat at the base of another tree with a soda in hoof and a grin on his snout. “Nnope.”

“Betrayal! Okay, okay!” He waved Applejack and Ms. Jubilee back. “There’s not much to tell. I was having a bad day as a foal (as opposed to the bad days as an adult) and was feeling pretty low. Going to meet some new foalster parents, but I knew they wouldn’t want a klutz around their home.” He sighed. “They never did.

“Anyway, I happened to be passing this unicorn filly who’d ended up teleporting her action figure into a tree.”

“Action figure?” said Ms. Jubilee. “Don’t you mean a doll?”

“Action figure.” Clutterstep insisted. Boys. “But she was getting all weepy about it, so I volunteered to get it for her. It ended up the same as usual. Falling, screaming, getting a good talking-down from an adult.” Clutterstep leaned against the cherry tree and studied its branches. “To be honest, I got the worst talking down from the most incredible mare. Worst moment in my life, and all I could do was give back the d—action figure I’d managed to snag.”

Applejack smirked, “And she thanked you with a kiss?”

Clutterstep’s glare would have been terrifying if he weren’t blushing. “On the cheek, yes. And it was just a quick peck. We were just foals.” He settled then, his gaze growing distant. “I can’t really describe it, but as bad as I was feeling, the thought that I’d done something right was just… liquid gold. It was exactly what I needed.” He glanced back at his cutie mark. “This thing showed up not long after, but I can’t really tell if it’s because of how I felt or the fact I’d survived another near-fatal fall.

“Another?” said Applejack.

“I have had many. In fact, that whole near-fatal label’s kinda misleading. False advertising, that’s what.”

Applejack and Ms. Jubilee traded smiles. “Well dearie, for what it’s worth, we both think you’re a good pony.”

“Eeyup!” Big Macintosh joined the group.

“Oh, sure. Now you want to join the conversation.” Clutterstep and Big Macintosh shared a smirk.

Applejack offered a hoof to help him up. “By the by, what ever happened to that filly that gave you that ‘little kiss’?”

Clutterstep shrugged, a tad bashful. “She got involved in her studies. I didn’t really see her again.”

“Oh, how tragic!” Ms. Jubilee swooned. “Young love, cut short. Why, makes me feel like a filly myself just thinking about it.” She leaned against Big Macintosh, who tried to gain some space without being impolite.

“Moving on!” Clutterstep pointed. “We’ve only got one more field to go, right?” He was right. In spite of everything, they’d managed to harvest everything except the eastern field. The largest and ripest of all.

“If we give it our all, we might still make that deadline.” Applejack felt winded, but she’d never been surer of a harvest. “Let’s get to it... y’all...” She trailed off at the sight of Sheriff Lucky Roll and a posse of five ponies coming up the pathway. Two of the ponies were hitched to a wagon and pulling it with some effort.

After Applejack pointed them out, Clutterstep said, “Oh my crud! She really did call the sheriff on me!”

“I did not!” Cherry Jubilee stood and went to meet them. Something about all this left a nasty chill through Applejack. She followed Ms. Jubilee, and Clutterstep and Big Macintosh fell in behind.

The posse and their wagon rolled to a stop in front of the farmhouse, where Ms. Jubilee stood waiting.

“Sheriff.” She addressed Lucky Roll as if the other ponies weren’t even there. “I must say, you’re becoming a permanent fixture around these parts. Just what has gone wrong now?”

“Ms. Jubilee.” Lucky Roll wasn’t meeting her eyes. “I’m powerful sorry to do this, but I have a warrant out for your arrest.”